Monday, April 19, 2010
“Don’t intentions count for anything?”
This question came from a grad school professor. We debated the strength of the main character in literary postmodern book (the title escapes me now). Most of the students and I complained we didn’t much like the main character because he didn’t do anything. Yes, we realized the postmodern novel could break the traditional plot and the quest and all those literary devices, but that didn’t mean we had to like it.
This is my first year anniversary of blogging. I’m still not sure what I am doing, but I will continue to do write. In this case, action replaces intention, even if the direction isn’t entirely clear yet.
The journey continues . . .
This summer I will be coming up on my sixth anniversary of living in the house I live in now. When we moved in, we faced a yard full of construction trash and blasted rock. I was determined to create a garden. With little time or finances, it has been a frustrating process, and my garden is still far from what I envision it to be one day. I read The Secret Garden enough times as a child to know what I want. So, over the past six years, I’ve moved and dug up many rocks, created flowerbeds, planted, and composted. Certain plants have been more successful than others, and certain areas have surprised me with gorgeous fecundity.
Now, in this glorious time of year, I steal outside and take a few minutes to enjoy. I wish I had a before picture (trust me, it was ugly), but here is the process so far. My work in progress.
Intentions are not enough. Maybe that’s why I forgot the name of that book.