I admire the smoothness of the moment, its weathered, etched smoothness, its muddied smoothness.
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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Monday, September 17, 2007

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. :)

* 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.)


Friday, March 30, 2007

Snow Geese

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


Saturday, February 24, 2007

Currently Listening
Imagine
By John Lennon
see related

Wild Geese -- 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.


Thursday, December 07, 2006

In Memory

of Patrick Logan.


Through Photos

 

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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