Ten Minutes Of Thought

It is interesting to write what I'm thinking. Hmmm....what am I thinking??? Oh, remember your lines for PETER PAN AND WENDY. The play is on the 14th. That's next week. Oh my, that is extremely soon. REMEMBER YOUR LINES!!!!! Yoga. I wonder how that word popped in my head. I hope my dad knows to pick me up at 4:30 today. Camp. I need to email Haleigh and Westin. Sailing. Do your work. Rice necklaces. Hand gestures. Sound. This must sound very strange. Oh well. Do your homework. Read up to chapter twenty in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Don't forget. My hand is starting to hurt. Biology. PHOTOSYNTHESIS. Chapters 2 and 7. Two for a dollar. That was random. Ha ha ha. Random thoughts. Inside joke. My hand can't write as fast as my thoughts. Don't forget to -- I can't believe someone cut the ONLY thing that was growing in the garden, the sunflower. That was not nice. WAIT! What was I thinking before? Don't forget to...Don't forget to...Don't forget to... do what? I forgot. It is hard to keep up with all of these thoughts...

Drumming

The drumming begins.
Soon it will be our turn to beat
As hard as we can,
As long as we can.
I hear the word that informs us to start
And we strike the drums hard.
I feel my arms grow weaker,
My breath heavier.
I want to stop
Until I hear voices of others saying "You can do it!"
Then my name.
I drink their words like water.
It provides me with energy,
With strength I didn't know I had.
There is something special,
Something incredible about one's voice.
It gives me motivation to keep going,
To keep pushing beyond the limitations
Because there are none.
So I continue to drum.
When I feel as if I can absolutely not go any further,
Just one more strike of the drum.

My Voice

I use my voice when talking to others and saying to them, "Hello, how are you?" It is amazing what the voice, itself, can tell people. Many times, one can know how I am feeling that day by listening to the tone and speed of my voice. I use my voice to express myself verbally and share my opinions and thoughts with others.

I don't know if I ever heard total silent. There is always sound in the air whether it is the ruffling of the leaves, a gust of a passing wind, the buzzing sound a computer makes, or even the sound of one's breath as they inhale and exhale. Silence is useful when thinking, when emphasizing a point with a pause, and especially when listening to what others have to say. However, silence can be harmful when burying a problem or conflict with another and locking it inside until one explodes. Like many things, silence can be both a good and bad thing.

Jumping Out Of My Body

Jumping out of my body,
Bending forward,
So confused, so scared.
Looking at myself
Swimming through the hard ground.
Movement diminishing,
Speech dissolving,
Hearing fading into silence,
In embrace of love and resistance.
Nothing I ever imagined
To happen to me.

The Dance Experience

When I first heard the word “dancing” in the writing class, I became slightly nervous and many previous dance class memories started to surface. When I was younger, I took tap and ballet. I remember my teacher. She would sometimes take out her whip and strike the floor with it a couple of times. I knew she would never hit a student with that whip, but I jumped every single time I heard the snapping sound. I recall, especially in ballet, there were many limitations and restrictions on the dance. One's arms must be held up this way, and one's feet must be placed that way. There wasn't much freedom. However, last week's dance class was surprisingly different. It was a lot freer and allowed each dancer to move as they pleased. It welcomed creative movement and the possibilities were endless. I think the class helped me let go some fears of dance classes that were locked inside of me.

The Senses

Sight

Everyone who knows me knows that I always wear my jacket. Whether it is fifty degrees or one hundred degrees, you will see me with my jacket at all times.

I see myself being inspired to create art with different mediums. I see the image in my mind and transfer it to paper, rock, clay, rice, etc. Through my art I let other people see what I see.


Touch

I feel the breeze during a warm summer day.

I feel the warmth of a hug a friend gives you on those days when you need it the most.


Taste

I taste the familiar flavors of my aunt's cooking.

I taste the cold water as it quenches my thirst after working for a long time in the warm Arizona weather.


Smell

I smell the fresh, renewed air after it rains.

I smell the refreshing ocean mist as each wave crashes into the sandy beach shore.


Sound

I hear the sound of strings being plucked on the guitar, each note having its own distinctive sound. I listen to the notes joining in unison to form a chord and chords joining to form song.

I hear the voices of people and their laughter.

Anatomy

The human body,

Strong, light, dependable.

Inside alive.

Surges of life and possibility

Containing the blueprint for a new human being.

Exactly twenty-three chromosomes

inherited from mother,

And exactly twenty-three from father,

Creating a unique combination like no other.

Fertile years

Holding four hundred chances to make a baby,

To see shiny reflections in the newborn's eyes

as they take their first look into the world,

To create life.

Barbie Beauty Head

My hands are tired from being held up for so long, and I yearn to let them finally rest. However, as much as I want to, I can't. They are petrified in one position and one position only. Like my hands, my face has only one expression that I must show no matter what I am feeling. It is an expression I did not choose; someone else chose it for me and painted it on my face. My face is identical to many others and there is nothing that separates us from one another. I don't want to be like every other. I want to be my person, myself. My hair is combed by hands that are not mine. I feel as if the hands of those who dress me up are teasing me because they can move and I can't. I can only move my neck and arms from side to side, but not by myself. Oh, how I wish I could move when I want to, independently, freely. But no, I remain frozen in time until someone pushes me, and I docilely bend at their will. There is no escape from this life. This is my life, the life of a Barbie Beauty Head.

I Am What I Am

I've been asked, "What are you?" Well, I am what I am and I am a person who cares about others. I am a girl. I am a daughter to my mother and father. I am a granddaughter to my grandparents. I am a little sister to my older sisters, Cheryl and Christina. I am a friend; my friends mean a lot to me. I am a student. I am a sophomore at City High School. I am a baker. I am an artist who loves to be inspired by all that surrounds me and who creates art every chance I get. I thirst to learn all types of art; drawing, painting, knitting, crocheting, pottery, the list continues...I am a musician who plays her guitar each day. For some odd reason, I mostly play classical songs even though I am not a big fan of classical music myself. I know I am probably over protective of my instrument. I remember, I accidentally scratched my guitar and nearly cried even though the scar was hardly noticeable. I know many will agree that I wear my jacket way to much. I am quiet and shy and sometimes need someone to give me a push and break me out of my shell. I love to see people happy and smiling because them being happy causes me to be happy. I am not perfect, but who is? I am what I am and I am me.

Behind the Formaldehyde Curtain

"Embalming is indeed a most extraordinary procedure, and one must wonder at the docility of Americans who each year pay hundreds of millions of dollars for its perpetuation, blissfully ignorant of what it is all about, what is done, how it is done"(Mitford). I have attended a total of two funerals in my life, my friend's and my aunt's. I remember at my aunt's funeral, my little cousin whispered to me, "She doesn't look dead. She looks like she is just sleeping." It was true. She did look like she was sleeping; although we all knew she wasn't. She looked far healthier at the funeral than she did while she was in the hospital (after she had a stroke). However, she didn't look like herself. This was due to embalming. I, myself, haven't given it much thought and was unaware of the procedure until I read Jessica Mitford's Behind the Formaldehyde Curtain. It is very surprising how embalming is so widely used in the United States and Canada and how few people actually know what the embalming practice includes. I was shocked to find out the work that goes into transforming a corpse, from the cutting to the replacement of body parts. The whole procedure doesn't seem natural. Also, it is appalling that the family of deceased is not even asked for their consent to go on with the procedure. They have to say otherwise. It makes me wonder how this tradition came about and how someone even came up with the idea of embalming. I don't know if I agree with embalming.

Body Map

Location: Back of right hand
Cause: My memory is a little fuzzy. I remember I was drawing with a blue colored pencil. Somehow, I got stabbed, and the tip of the pencil broke off into my hand.
Diagnosis: Pencil in hand
Treatment: The pencil was in too deep and could not be taken out. A band aid was put over the wound.
Follow Up: The pencil piece remains in my right hand. When I was learning my directions, it helped me remember my right hand from my left hand.

Location: Top of right ear
Cause: My older sister wanted to play drees up. While she curled my hair, her hand slipped, and the metal part of the curling iron burned my ear.
Diagnosis: Burned ear
Treatment: A loud scream of pain (which got covered by my sister's hand so my mom wouldn't find out what happened).
Follow Up: I have a fear of curling irons and am scarred with a dent in the top part of my right ear.

Location: Voice
Cause: My sister thought it would annoy her if I said the word "cool" all the time. She told me if I said it, I would be put in the freezer. I said the word because I didn't believe her, and she put me in the freezer. I promised I would never say that word again.
Diagnosis: Cursed with the word "cool"
Treatment: I drank a large mug of hot chocolate.
Follow Up: To this day, I cannot say the word, "cool" (I can only write it), and I start shiver whenever I hear the word.

Location: Heart
Cause: On the way home from school, my babysitter crashed into another car. Our car went down a ditch (I just thought it was a very dusty road) and ran into a tree.
Diagnosis: Bruise over the heart and alittle scared
Treatment: I received many hugs from my friends and family.
Follow Up: I have occasional memory flashbacks.

Location: Eyes
Cause: Unknown. I was reading a book during school and a dizzy sensation entered my body. I felt light headed and the words on the page became blurry. I asked my teacher if I could go to the office because I wasn't feeling well. On the way to the office I lost my vision and collapsed.
Diagnosis: Vision loss
Treatment: I curled up into a ball and slept for four hours.
Follow Up: The vision loss episodes continued to occur at a guitar lesson, the store, the movies, school (while doing AIMS testing), and the Arizona Historical Society.