After a Dry Spell

Okay, so I haven't posted since July 24th. I lost inspiration, I lost motivation, and I started to get a little scared to have my thoughts posted live, but I've decided to start up the conversation again. Since I now have Firefly checking in, and Robyn (if she hasn't given up on checking), I figured I'd start keeping up my end of our various conversations.

My Current Reason for Inspiration
I love my classes. I'm taking a writing class and a dance/movement therapy class. The writing class is a workshop format with a lot of flexibility. So far the teacher has asked me to write 15 minutes daily and compose a one to two page "sketch" of someone I know intimately. Though I wrote these assignments down thinking it would be no problem, I'm finding it difficult to do them. I'm better than 50% on the journal, but I'm not satisfied with my "sketches" yet. I need to devote more time to this. I need to stop telling Scholastic I'll work for them so that I'll have time and energy to do this. But the money is so irresistible.
Actually, what I'm realizing the more I try to make myself write, is that I'm not sure if I'm ready to be as vulnerable and honest as I need to be to write. I like very raw writing. I recently read Toni Morrison's novel Love, and I was reminded of how much I love her work. Why? Because it's so insightful and honest and raw. And though I'm hardly saying that I have any illusions of writing like Toni Morrison, I do feel like it represents the type of writing I want from myself. I think I expect myself to be as honest as I am capable of being. But honestly, I don't show that part of myself to anyone. I slowly let bits and pieces out to my close friends, to Eric, but it comforts me to think of the things that I control, that I never reveal. This feels like a profound dilemma if I want to continue teaching myself to write.
My Dance Therapy class, by comparison, is just a release. We talk for a while and then the teacher puts on music and everyone in the class moves (dances) around the room. We do this for a long time, and then last Thursday she gathered us into a circle and we tried imitating each other's movements - one at a time. We only had time for five people, and I was one of the five people. While the class was trying to imitate the selected student's movement, the teacher would ask us to analyze the movement. What part of the body initiated the movement? Was everyone able to do it? Did it feel strange in our bodies? Why? Was it different from our comfortable movement? How? The most fascinating observation for me was that when I was "leading" I was completely as ease and could have continued that movement indefinitely. But when I was imitating the other four people, I quickly became tired, even if the movement was very simple. It was effort, because it didn't flow from my unconsciousness. It made me really wonder about movement. Where does it come from? How do we develop a comfort level with some movement but not others? How long does it take for a movement to become part of us?
The teacher said that she thought my movement was very interesting, that it was an interesting combination of elements. She said that it was interesting to her to know that I had a multi-cultural background, because she could recognize such different influences in my movement. I really didn't understand what she was talking about, but I didn't have the courage to ask her more about it after class. Maybe I'll figure it out as the class continues.

I'm filled up with thoughts and ideas from these classes, but I've also been working a lot and not giving myself time to process it all. And I haven't even mentioned my internship with the storytellers, which is still being shaped. I'm once again faced with the question, "what age group do I want to be working with?" I always find that such an overwhelming question.

That's all for now.
La Loba