Temporary Liberation and Another Eulogy

As of Tuesday morning, I am free! Well, until late August that is. School should be starting again then. But until that day, I am free to read, write, draw, and many other things. Among these other things I might hopefully return to Dead Broke Farm to ride their beautiful horses. Life seems good about now.

It came to my attention that recently Ray Bradbury, the author of Fahrenheit 451 and many other brilliant books, passed away at the age of ninety-one. As saddened as I am, I think he had a very long and productive life. I'm sure he enjoyed his run. Rest in peace, sir; I love you and your work. The weird thing is, I am currently reading his novel Something Wicked This Way Comes, and was when he died. Well, he was a great writer, and I look forward to reading more of his life's work.

The End (of a Cycle) is Near!

"Always look on the bright side of life!" - Eric Idle

I actually don't remember what the fortuneteller called them - turns? phases? - so I'm sticking with "cycles" for the time being. But whatever they were called, I think one is ending. I've said before that the story doesn't end when one overcomes an adversity in reality - a new one will pop up soon, and a new cycle will commence. Same thing with defeat; that and victory are interchangeable for this matter. Life is a series of smaller tales which all interconnect as a huge tapestry. An epic, if you will. For an individual, the curtain closes only in death, if at all. For the world, it might never do so.

I'm almost through with my junior year of high school and I relish the idea of a long, long respite. Eventually I'll have to return...but only once more, I think. After that, I shall be relatively free. I will be able to do my own thing for a couple months and should get much more reading and writing done. Perhaps I'll even find a decent job and/or resume volunteering for my library system. Maybe even enjoy a horse ride or more! So my head is up and the horizon looks brighter. I sail toward freedom, a phase at a time, until I reach it. Even then, I'll keep sailing. And that will be the most exciting series of voyages yet. Bon courage!

Structure (Day, Not Story)

"I might repeat to myself slowly and soothingly, a list of quotations beautiful from minds profound - if I can remember any of the damn things." - Dorothy Parker (from a quote book I intend to use more often)

I'm currently having a conversation with Emily H about the structure of a summer day. We agree that a person feels better after a day when that day has been filled with events. I try to do plenty of varying things each day, including reading for at least an hour, the same with writing, practicing piano for a certain amount of time, etc., etc. I also like to leave the house on a daily basis to prevent cabin fever. One thing we discussed earlier was horses: I would love to live on a horse farm, but it sounds like a lot of money and work. My current thought in my ever-shifting career plan is architect; not sure if they can afford horses and their care, but taking care of the animals would keep one from "going dull."

The thing is, when one "keeps the saw sharp" one doesn't need to worry about getting back into the habit: falling out of them is easy, but getting back into them is not.

T.T.F.N.,

Lewis

Summer at Last

So this is it: I am free. I plan to read more than ever now, and I am already making my way through The Best of Cemetery Dance. Tonight my mother, sisters, and I watched a quarter of Stephen King's The Stand - very good teleplay with a rather scary villain. I walked most of the way to my mother's house today, which is saying something; it's a good way from my school and I would have probably gone all the way if not for my book-bag weighing down on my back and threatening to break it. Ah, I won't have to worry about that for a while.

I counted the library books I have out, and I believe I have exactly twenty-five. I hope to read at least most of them this summer. One was a quick read, a galley from Printz called Requiem: Poems from the Terezin Ghetto. It was quite sad and disturbing, but I appreciated the poetry.

Speaking of books, I might move my reviews to this blog and keep one after all. Also, "The Worlds of Winter" is old - how about "The Winter Journal"? (With the former I needed a title and didn't know what to call it).

I might be volunteering at a local library this summer. We'll see how that turns out.

I must close the journal now, but I shall post again soon!

Au revoir,

Lewis