This is some of my writing from a Public Relations and Ad Writing class I took this past spring. If you ever have the chance to take a writing course, do it! You will thank me and your professor later. I know that it does not sound fun, but you will need outstanding writing skills to achieve a wonderful career. I would not have had the courage to start a blog and share my writing with all of you if I did not take this class. It is definitely one of my favorites. Below are three of my writings from the class.
A Dark Solitude – A Descriptive Paper
Darkness surrounds me besides the glow from the laptop screen resting on my legs. It is blinding compared to the dark room. The soft hum of the running computer motor, hushed music through the headphones resting in my ears, a muffled voice beyond the door and cars passing slowly down the barely lit road are the sounds around me. The silence of two roommates trying to sleep makes me tired. The absence of another makes my heart yearn for adventure.
My dorm room right now makes me miss being a freshman. The adventure of being away from home for the first long period of time. The strangers you live with and grow to love. The pressure of being new. The nervousness in your gut when you go to your first class. The questions buzzing through your head, who will I sit beside, what if I go to the wrong class, what if they professor is mean, and the list is endless.
My surroundings might be dark, but this room has some many memories that overwhelm my thoughts. The move in, the hellos, the laughs, the tears, the sighs, the endless hours of homework, the smell of bleach, the hugs, the rug, the sound of guitar strumming, the running toilet sound, and so much more. These memories have been a part of our lives these past seven months. In two more months, the people will go their separate ways, but the memories will remain.
The tiredness sets in harder as the morning hours come. My eyes are growing heavier the more I work. The green numbers glare at me from the microwave across the way, trying to get me to crawl into bed. With the weight of homework on my shoulders, I push on. The sound of heavy breathing sets in. The roommates are asleep. My thoughts are all over and are not making sense. They drift to my family, my dad who is ill, my best friend who is walking alone, my sister who is away from home, my friend’s father in law in the hospital, my Growth Group girls, my life her at Grace, and what my future holds. The clock ticks away. Why do we waste so much time? We rush through life second by second, hour by hour, and year by year. We are always moving. This dark solitude was an escape from life. It was a time to reflect, a time to move forward, a time to remember, and a time to look to the future
Ode to a Chair
A chair by definition is a seat for one person that has a back and usually four legs. My ode to a chair is not a chair by definition at all. It is just a small ledge that is part of a shelving divide in my home. It separates the family room where the dining room. It is made of wood and has a shelf right above it that if you are too tall, you will hit your head. It is not meant for adults and probably not even for sitting, however; it is the chair that means the most to me.
As a kid, I would sit there when we had company over and listen to my parents entertain. It was my little chair. Perfect fit for a little girl. It is centrally located in the house so I could be around everyone at once. Close to the piano where my sister would practice for hours, beside the kitchen where mom would bake her famous cookies, next to the family room where our dog resided, and near the living room where dad would watch NASCAR on Sunday afternoons. Those activities are my childhood and have a special place in my heart.
I would crawl through the gap instead of using the step because I could. It made me happy to just sit and enjoy my surroundings. Those surroundings have changed over the years. My sister no longer plays piano regularly, my mom bakes less, my dog has passed away, and my dad does not have a lot of time for NASCAR. The activities may have changed, but that shelf is still there. It holds my memories and when I go home, I look at it and I get emotional. It makes me think of my life and how much has happened. These small pieces of wood held together by a couple of nails have affected my life in a way I have never seen. It is just a shelf to everyone, but to me, it is my chair where I see life pass by.
An activity I enjoy is dance.
Ballet, tap, jazz, musical theatre, modern, ballroom, and lyrical are some I have performed. Centuries have passed with dance intertwined throughout.
Dancers have many skills.
Excellent balance, determination, persistence, and teamwork are just a couple.
Few dancers go onto to be professionals.
Grand battementing to the top is difficult.
Health related issues are normally the cause of careers ending.
I try to dance every chance I get.
Jumping and landing as soft as a leaf.
Kicking to the sky like you are flinging a bug off your foot.
Leaping so gracefully that you look as if you are floating through the air.
Mirrors cover dance studio walls because we absolutely need to see what we look like doing a routine.
Nicks on the floor from the tap shoes smashing against it.
Over and over, we practice our combinations.
Pirouttes, plies, piques, passes, and port-de-bras are chiseled into a dancers brains.
Quick, quick slow is the tempo for the fox trot; if you do slow slow quick, you have messed it all up.
Right and left start to blur.
Spotting saves you from falling which causes injury.
Time steps whether it be a single, double, triple, or quad are perfected.
Unique, which means make it your own, is in every dancer’s vocabulary.
“V” position are the worst things out of your instructors’ mouth.
Wings are difficult to get the hang of, but sound amazing when you do.
Xanthodontous, having yellow teeth, is what we have with bright red lipstick on; no matter how much you whiten your teeth.
You have to have confidence in yourself or you will not be able to go far in your dance career.
Zipping up your garment bag full of costumes after a recital is a bittersweet sound.
Those are some of my favorites. I hope that you all practice your writing skills; it does not even have to be about something in particular. Just start writing. It takes time to work on, but you will see growth in your writing. If you want to send me your writing, put it in the comments and I will give it a look. I look forward to reading what you comment.
Until next time my Sassy Peaches,