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Why Do I Write?

September 5th, 2010 by Jake

Why do I write/draw?

Spar­ing you the tedious expe­di­tion of my own his­tory of writing/drawing or the his­tory of this par­tic­u­lar ques­tion, the answer is sim­ple:  It makes me feel like I am a god.

When I write and draw, I am cre­at­ing some­thing.  That act of cre­ation, how­ever small it may be, is my own in that moment.  Through writ­ing and draw­ing I can cre­ate new worlds and new life.  One could say that from our per­spec­tive I am merely putting things on paper, but the feel­ing I get when I “put those things on paper” is a hint that some­thing exists beyond what I’ve laid down.  Even if it is intrin­si­cally tied to the paper I put it on, the idea of the world or char­ac­ter itself tran­scends it.

When I write and draw, my mind holds worlds in its palm, cre­at­ing the hori­zon as it tends to them with care.  My char­ac­ters take on a sense of indi­vid­u­al­ity, being fully part of me but at the same time being their own, indi­vid­ual selves.  I mold them to have flaws and faults, know­ing that in over­com­ing the for­mer that I have cre­ated some­thing that is some­how greater than per­fec­tion.  I chal­lenge my worlds and inhab­i­tants, dar­ing them to rise to the great­ness I have placed within them.

When I write and draw, I imag­ine myself as a glow­ing, celes­tial fig­ure, float­ing in a void of dark­ness and stars.  With a thought, I bring forth a world, and then begin to detail its past and future and present.  Slowly, over long peri­ods of time, I inscribe these details onto paper, and the world and its inhab­i­tants become filled with life as the idea within them reaches out to read­ers and observers.  As long as their name is spo­ken and their story is told, they will live on, grow­ing into some­thing greater.

That is why I write and draw.  The love for my cre­ations that per­me­ates my being when I cre­ate is addict­ing, more than any­thing else in the world.

So, let me ask you:  If you write or draw, or just like com­ing up with ideas… why do you do it?

Keep on dreaming.

Jake the Dreamaniac

Poetry Post: The Long Wait

September 2nd, 2010 by Jake

So, we’ve been learn­ing about vil­lanelles in Lit­er­a­ture Analy­sis.  They’re a form of poetry that:

1.)  Con­sists of nine­teen lines.

2.) Has five stan­zas, each of three lines, with a final one of four lines.

3.) The first line of the first stanza is repeated as the last line of the sec­ond and fourth stanzas.

4.) The third line of the first stanza is repeated as the last line of the third and fifth stanzas.

5.) These two refrain lines fol­low each other to become the second-to last and last lines of the poem.

6.) The rhyme scheme is aba.  The rhymes are repeated accord­ing to the refrains.

So, after absorb­ing this, I went and wrote one.  I’m… not sure why I wrote what I did, but I fig­ure I should at the very least share it.

The Long Wait

by Jake Courington

Watch her body slowly decay,
Hear silent mourn­ing through­out the home
As we approach the end of day.

See the place where she will lay,
Neath a tree of ironic green.
Watch her body slowly decay.

The blue of her eyes slowly turns to grey,
And pale flesh is drawn taught over her bones
As we approach the end of day.

Her voice comes as soft as the whis­per of the fey,
Her touch as weak as a whith­ered tree branch.
Watch her body slowly decay.

I tray with all my might to say,
I have the courage to see this through
As we approach the end of day.

But as her twi­light draws near,
And shad­ows lengthen all around the home, we must
Watch her body slowly decay,
As we approach the end of day.

——

If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go cry for a bit.

Keep on dream­ing.  No mat­ter what.

Jake the Dreamaniac

Happy 16th, Sis.

August 28th, 2010 by Jake

Hey, Rachel. I’m sorry I can’t be there for your birth­day, but col­lege has started to get busy and I never got around to mak­ing plans for today.

Thank­fully, I can at least wish you a happy 16th birth­day.  It’s quite a mile­stone; it’s only a lit­tle longer before you start dri­ving on your own, and bit by bit you’ll begin tak­ing on more of the pri­valages and respon­si­bil­i­ties of being an adult.  I’m con­fi­dent that you’ll be able to han­dle them.  Most of the time, at least.

I know we bicker alot and don’t agree on most things, but I want you to know that I still love you.  What­ever we might say to each other, we’re still fam­ily, and I admit my life wouldn’t have been nearly as inter­est­ing with­out you around.  From the depths of my heart, I thank you.

Unfor­tu­nately, I don’t have my tablet pen and my scan­ner isn’t work­ing, or I’d draw you some­thing as my birth­day present.  As a con­cil­la­tory gift, albeit one I’m not sure you’ll like, I’ll give you the oppor­tu­nity to find and use a word that I wont be able to under­stand.  Just click on this link.

Happy birth­day, and keep on dreaming.

With love,

Your Brother

Poetry Post: Believe

July 17th, 2010 by Jake

Laugh.  Dream.  Imagine.

Believe in oth­ers.  Believe in yourself.

Believe.

Love.  Play.  Wonder.

Believe in your friends.  Believe you are special.

Believe.

Learn.  Hope.  Smile.

Believe in the world.  Believe in mak­ing a difference.

Believe.

–Jake Cour­ing­ton

This poem is a trib­ute to the incred­i­ble Fred Rogers.