Today I wore brown on black. It does not feel like me. I love wearing color. I think my favorite thing to wear right now is a pair of blue and white striped pants and a pair of blue japanese tennis shoes and a blue shirt (I also love wearing a pair of yellow shorts). So somedays I wear three shades of blue (and only think of fifty shades of grey).
Today I taught composition to college freshman at a community college. I am teaching them how to write a personal essay. I had them read Eula Biss' Relations. Most of them didn't read. One student who did read it said it was garbage and discombobulated.
I want to wear red. I want to wear red all of the time. I want to wear red pants with a red and blue or red and cream striped shirt. Maybe a red sweater too. I want to wear red, but I can't because I don't own red. I own a single red sweater, but summer time. I own so much blue that I wear all blue somedays. I want to buy a red pair of shoes but I can't justify the purchase right now. Maybe I'll buy a pair of red laces for my boots. Maybe a red pocket square. Someday I'll have a pair of red shoes though.
I had a hard time justifying her writing. I had a hard time telling the whole class, "this is art. this is the reason you should want to write. what she's doing here is magic with words. she isn't doing anything but writing and she is making you feel things."
There is this whole genre of youtube videos about teenage boys digging holes and tunnels and forts. There is really no reason for them to do it. It's just something for them to do.
In the comments, the boys are often made fun of. There are a lot of virginity jokes (you can put your virginity in there). Jokes about computer games. Jokes about scifi movies. Obviously minecraft.
When I was an undergrad, I had a poetry workshop with Carmen Gimenez Smith. In the class, we read a poem by Jorie Graham. Some of them weren't having it. They thought it was boring and meaningless. She said something that made a ton of sense: Jorie Graham doesn't have to prove herself a good poet to you. She's a good poet. This is a good poem... You don't get it, and that's you're fault.
In the comments, the boys are often asked what they're going to do once they're finished. One boy said he was just going to fill it back in.