The Art Site

Saturday, September 24, 2011

'Connecting' Assignment

Hello everyone!

I thought I'd share with you a piece of writing I did today. This was actually uni work - an assignment for CHCH101, the new course offered at Canterbury University which teaches students about service in their community. For our assignment we're allowed to use whatever format we like to convey ideas - I chose prose/poetry this time. The question was...

How can service and learning be connected?

There is a man, old in his mind and frail in his body
Crosses his legs when he sits, and reads
You can find him hidden, corners, dust
In a room full of voices he cannot speak
Few sit next to that man, preferring laughter
Sometimes he’s visible
But sometimes he has never existed
Youth cannot long tolerate age

There is a young man, bones, bones
Thin, long hair unwashed
His person and his soul uncared for
I’ve seen him
Corridors, and once in the café
Then hidden in a room full of enthusiasm
Of arrogance, trivialities, laughter
“Yeah I’m pretty happy, getting an A for Bio”
He is not seen
A moth in the daytime
I wanted to cheer him; encourage him
But how?
He must have pride; I must not show that I pity him

There is a woman
Tiny, dwarfed, deformed
Imprisoned in her wheelchair
Yet her eyes are full of light
She smiles, and others smile with her
Can it be possible that she is happy?

Sometimes we are faced with disasters
This city of cards, knocked over
Our pride, the gladness of our heritage
Only bricks, no structure
A terrible cry, the death of the helpless
But now I think
Through this disaster
We have seen our need
For food and clothes, a dry place – yes
But too long we have not felt
Our ache; we have not seen
The struggle of the invisible
Who have faced the shattering of our city
But whose lives are a long-term disaster
Whose difficulty could be eased
If they were recognised
If they were cared for

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Thursday, September 22, 2011

I is tired, but I is alive.

I'm tired.

Seems like everything that this world consists of is tension: relentless deadlines; stress that I'm not getting work in on time; late nights drifting cloudily into early mornings; a nagging feeling that God is being left behind, that I'm just using Him and not relating - help me with this essay God, please help me; next year and what shall I do? A job; I must work; household quarrels, pain is never old; my body muttering and complaining: too much sugar, not enough exercise, too much gluten; has my writing finished? will I ever be able to pick it up again?; worried that I am losing my youngest brother, am not spending the time I want to spend with him and he is getting so old!; drawing, how it absorbed me before university and now no pursuit is alive - what I thought was my identity, gone and now i'm smart, such an intelligent university student, am I what I wanted to be?; everything, everything too cliche; listening to people - wishing there was more time to be tired.

But there is newness.

A new bible - blue, wreathed, ESV - a 'good christian girl's bible', so beautiful, perhaps I will learn to love it, though never as much as I did the falling-apart, cheap black one I used so long; flowers, birthday brightness and a red rose; an unexpected A+, the uncertain but glad knowledge that God is love and all is purposed; magical, evil light on waves at New Brighton Pier; the realization that really, the earth from the vantage point of a plane makes so much more sense; a new handbag with convenient pockets.
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