A big girl choice

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  • Philosophy

    A big girl choice

    It took thirty seconds. That’s all I needed. The amount of time it takes to trip on the third step of my patio porch, the time it takes to unwrap a new piece of gum and allow its flavor to dissolve, and the exact amount of time to make an important decision. I knew who I wanted to be. A bold decision that reaps no regret. My sudden realization was I didn’t have to choose between my two passions. I could incorporate my photography with my writing and take the natural progression into film. Movies are a quintessential part of my life, but before my fascination with film, there was my constant dabbling in writing and my frequent urge to take pictures I knew someone else would want to see. Both writing and photography allowed me to begin my transition into the person I want to be; a film director.

              Before clicking cameras or worshiping Todd Solondz films I wrote.  I’ve kept my notebooks; they look clawed at. They’ve been stabbed with pens, thrown against my annoying bubblegum pink walls, and stained with smeared ink. The paper has soaked up my tears, contained my thoughts, harnessed my rage, and recorded my hopes. I could close the notebook, when I was sick of myself, and I could revisit it and laugh about how silly I had been that day. I still write, maybe not as much as I used to, but it’s evident my notebooks are documented evidence of my self in progress. Every poem, work of prose, or random scribbles mesh together forming who I am today. The writing evolves every time I turn the page of my first black notebook with all its tears and holes, and every time I find something else to write about. I grow when I write, finding myself splattered all over the page again and again, sometimes sick of the same thoughts, sometimes overwhelmed with them.  I can’t help associating the love I have for writing with the confusion I felt with the normal angry experiences I was having. Everyone grows up, some people late bloomers, and some are prepubescent. But I grew up the day I picked up a pen.

    The comfort of knowing I could always turn the page helped me cope with the messiness of life, but when life wasn’t always the image I wanted to see, I could create my own vision with a camera. I realized photography would become a big part of my life. What started out as a hobby became a discovery. Around this same time I bought my first real ‘’big girl’’ professional camera. I spent the whole summer caring for other people’s toddlers, looking under couch cushions and having to ask my younger brother Robert for a staggering loan. I finally did it, stalked craigslist until I found perfection: a gently used but still in its box Canon Rebel.

    Writing weaned me away from all of my teenage frustrations, coaxing me along out of what my mom loves to call the “difficult years”. But it was photography that allowed me to have fun, mess with the exposures and quirks of life and capture a different side of my self. I found out, a year older and much wiser, that my two passions, aren’t just hobbies, but the trailblazers to my truly endless self-discovery.

     

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    ginga commented on A big girl choice

    11-30-2009

    I liked learning about you Chalkout and there is so much passion and fortitude in your decision making. ginga

    Artie commented on A big girl choice

    10-18-2009

    Great wirte!! 10 from me..........................................

    1990lh commented on A big girl choice

    10-09-2009

    beautiful chalkie ilike it it was all about u and what u love to do and hhow u feel aboutit excellent job u express ur passion really well

    dumplin commented on A big girl choice

    10-08-2009

    Oh, girl, this is awesome! I wish I could have had the opportunity to show my artistic side at such a young age. I'm only just blossoming.

    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

    chalkout91’s Poems (20)

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    Title Comments
    a note left on a bench 2
    Virgin Territory Chartered 8
    God created women Men Created Barbies 7
    Tell My Mother... 6
    I Hate That You Can read Me 2
    How Sad.... 5
    changed plans 5
    A big girl choice 4
    Waiting room 4
    Shut Up Put Out and stop crying 11
    waiting 5
    my quilted existence 5
    Housewife 3
    The color of womanhood 5
    I come from 6
    Made in China 5
    contained 6
    Oddly Enough I like you 4
    The Color Green 4
    I am the other 10