My beloved classmates – those who
are graduating with me – are giving their lectures as we prepare to complete
our MFAs in Creative Writing at Bennington College.
And per my usual, I’m jotting down
notes about anything that interests me.
Snippets of their lectures, lines from
the poems they are reciting or stories they are reading as part of the
graduation requirements.
And I’m finding wisdom, I’m finding
mastery, I’m finding love for this world of writing, this world we finally realized
we had no choice but to occupy, to stake out as our own.
Some excerpts (including a few choice bits from professors' lectures and readings):
“The little headstones of a season
we will never sip” (Lucas)
“I was paralyzed by my own desire to be good” (Liz)
“All that chatter of being good or
better than someone else fell away by not looking at the page” in a drawing
class (Liz)
Advice to a young poet: “Listen to
how people talk….Love what’s available” (Ed Ochester, professor)
And
"I cried out, 'My son, my only son'" (Ochester, again)
“Hers was a past I felt I had a
right to know” (Rowena)
"That was so long ago." "Not for her." (Rowena)
Paraphrasing: “Put people somewhere…given
them a passion, an obsession” (Julie quoting Amy Hempel)
“Worm girl” (the name of a belittled
childhood friend from an essay – Gwen)
"Write about what you fear is true" -- not what is true (Bret Anthony Johnston, professor)
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