The Dissertation has taken a turn for the better. I realized, as I was very slowly forcing myself to fill in the blanks of my consultant's outline, that I was writing her idea of my work. Thus the forcing. So I have reshaped the outline to fit my basic premises and am flowing nicely now. Making much better progress, still pricked onward by the fear of failure and shame at being so windy (read as winding - twists and turns - as well as too much wind). It is important to have authentic and traditional motivations, like fear and shame, to drive one onward.
But seriously folks, I realized at a different level the necessity of setting myself up for success by paying real and careful attention to what hasn't and doesn't work for me. Hereafter I'll follow Dennis Slattery's instruction to "write like you are writing an email" so the audience can understand what the heck I'm saying. Extending the context of his comment, I'd best do what I love to do - outline clearly and write shorter pieces (one clear page or two at a time) for prompt release (requires clarity in the first draft rather than curly wandering for later revisions) towards the creation of websites and the like. Like a blog! How many people within the range of this would be willing to read stuff faithfully and tell me
Without, the environment has felt much like my internal weather since December.
The sky has been pouring so much liquid on Texas of late that the Trinity River in Dallas is WAY out of its banks and filling every nook and cranny from levy to levy.
And the rest of North Texas ain't much better off.
We have a history of that, you see (the `08 in this particular case refers to 100 years ago),
but many different reactions to the thunder, lightning, and roaring firmament.
I highly recommend a visit to the Meghan-Val-Isaiah blog. Val is way out beyond cute.
"He claps and dance-dances to music fists waving. He can find the moon in the sky at night and points." I love that boy. Val is absolutely The Most.
I miss Aidan so much my stomach balls up and feels like a lead weight beneath every beating of my heart. There is nothing more precious than a child, and one who can point at the moon is no longer "a child" but The Child, the one who knows where your moon is and without whom pointing becomes pointless for quite some time.
Missing the point,
B
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But seriously folks, I realized at a different level the necessity of setting myself up for success by paying real and careful attention to what hasn't and doesn't work for me. Hereafter I'll follow Dennis Slattery's instruction to "write like you are writing an email" so the audience can understand what the heck I'm saying. Extending the context of his comment, I'd best do what I love to do - outline clearly and write shorter pieces (one clear page or two at a time) for prompt release (requires clarity in the first draft rather than curly wandering for later revisions) towards the creation of websites and the like. Like a blog! How many people within the range of this would be willing to read stuff faithfully and tell me
- Does it make sense?
- Does it fit, given what has gone before?
- Does it support what I said I would support?
- Does it set up what I say is coming and make you want to read on?
Without, the environment has felt much like my internal weather since December.
The sky has been pouring so much liquid on Texas of late that the Trinity River in Dallas is WAY out of its banks and filling every nook and cranny from levy to levy.
What it looks like at the moment:
What it usually looks like:
And the rest of North Texas ain't much better off.
We have a history of that, you see (the `08 in this particular case refers to 100 years ago),
but many different reactions to the thunder, lightning, and roaring firmament.
I highly recommend a visit to the Meghan-Val-Isaiah blog. Val is way out beyond cute.
"He claps and dance-dances to music fists waving. He can find the moon in the sky at night and points." I love that boy. Val is absolutely The Most.
I miss Aidan so much my stomach balls up and feels like a lead weight beneath every beating of my heart. There is nothing more precious than a child, and one who can point at the moon is no longer "a child" but The Child, the one who knows where your moon is and without whom pointing becomes pointless for quite some time.
Missing the point,
B
Labels: daily, Dallas, diss, family, flood, grief, kin, travel, VK
| posted by Unknown @ 6/28/2007 10:02:00 AM
