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SariRewrites
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Name: Serena Country: United States State: New Hampshire Metro: Exeter Birthday: 5/12/1990 Gender: Female
Interests: maneuvering cities and towns, observing human follies, writing poetry, usual book/movie/music combo Expertise: sprinting to 8:00 a.m. class, "meditating" before working (we all know what that means!) Occupation: reporter for The Exonian Industry: journalism, human rights, huma
Message: message meEmail: email me AIM: SariRewrites MSN: serena.may@gmail.com ICQ: 349-931-674
Member Since:
4/26/2005
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| I'm now at http://muntinsquares.blogspot.com/
first post there ...
In May last school year, I received promotional mail from Dell that
enabled me to create a website easily for free (www.serenamay.com). I was hoping that it
would gradually sort out my cluttered identities on networking sites
(facebook.com, abandoned Xanga sites*), through virtual communication
(AIM, MSN, emails, phone calls) and in real life (social circles in
boarding school at Exeter, family/ old friends in Hong Kong). However,
my lack of technological savvy limited how/ what I could express
efficiently and stunted my motivation. And here I am to try anew.
My
goal is still the same. I want to chronicle, linearize and expand on my
flashes of fluttering thoughts. When I went to rural China this summer,
I realized that a place keeps us sheltered from other aspects of
ourselves that are attached to other places and people. As the blog
becomes a record, I could piece together my different aspects and my
motives to change how I present myself (or perhaps I change less than I
think I do?). Continuing with the idea of change, in reality,
everything happens in a *bang* and roll into blob. It is difficult to
capture those moments in a fashion that is accessible. In writing, I
unfold and layer the milliseconds of these moments to translate the
effect. I linearize when narrating, and, in the process, mix in my
perception. Often, perception is formed in retrospect, thus writing
articulates the bangs/ blobs, while re-framing and re-molding them into
something of their own.
I could do all this in a word document,
but writing for an audience is meaningful. I feel more connected, and
if I'm lucky I could hear from you. :)
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Why did I abandon Xanga? 1) I grew out of the name of my first one. 2)
I came to boarding school, and Xanga is not so hot here. I still
subscribe to check up on my friends at home though! 3) I lost interest
in posting/ propping. It felt too much like a journal, and posts are
expected to be quick accounts. I did not have the energy and
determination to continue such a precedent. (I have for a while used
the site to save private bits and unrefined pieces -- but this role has
now been taken up by Gmail. Hmm.)
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| Oh, to love what is lovely, and will not last! What a task to ask of anything, or anyone, yet it is ours, and not by the century or the year, but by the hours. One fall day I heard above me, and above the sting of the wind, a sound I did not know, and my look shot upward; it was a flock of snow geese, winging it faster than the ones we usually see, and, being the color of snow, catching the sun so they were, in part at least, golden. I held my breath as we do sometimes to stop time when something wonderful has touched us as with a match, which is lit, and bright, but does not hurt in the common way, but delightfully, as if delight were the most serious thing you ever felt. The geese flew on, I have never seen them again. Maybe I will, someday, somewhere. Maybe I won't. It doesn't matter. What matters is that, when I saw them, I saw them as through the veil, secretly, joyfully, clearly. -- Mary Oliver | | |
| You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -- over and over announcing your place in the family of things. | | |
| Snow Ball, courtesy of Jill on the left 
Bancroft dorm photo, courtesy of Laura P. 
The Exonian Board Turnover ... 5:20 a.m. Sunday, courtesey of Claire A. 
Cat Regio came back for E/A!! It's Komal there on the right. courtesy of Mel C. 
Pep Rally bon fire, courtesy of Victoria SS 
religion class, "Personhood and Belief," with Mr. Ramsey, courtesy of Dass N. Harvard Psych Class, studying for finals, courtesy of Lisa Z. spring dance concert '06, courtsey of Jill B. Panama spring break last year, courtsey of Lauren H. Jen's amazing surprise party for me, courtsey of Jen Y. | | |
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