Colobration

My daughter uses me as her editor sometimes. She writes a story or a song or something and I giver her notes and she does other drafts to polish it up. I really enjoy working with her when we do this kind of thing, and I quite like her work. If I had a career wish, I think I would love to use it to have a family business where I could work with all my kids doing creative stuff together.

Last spring her English teacher took her to a writing conference with others from her creative writing class. He's one of her favorite teachers. An interesting guy, that one. He's a Phd that chose to come back and teach high school because he likes teens better than college students.

At the conference she was in a poetry workshop where she wrote this poem:

The shadow taught me
That the darkness is not to be feared
The shadow taught me
that the unknown can be kind
The shadow taught me
Not to look at the small faults
Not to bring to light the bruises
The knots
The cracks in the wall
Chipping paint
Torn curtains
But to accept the room as it is
To close my eyes and take in the
Feeling it has to offer
The shadow taught me not to fear the eyes
The watchers
The judges
But to be myself
The shadow taught me what it is to be free.

A snooty girl in the workshop didn't like it and in the feedback made Kitten feel bad about her writing. She was a bit discouraged when she got home. But it did give us an opportunity to talk about the personalities that can and will be encountered in creative circles---especially in college. There is always going to be the expert, very in touch with what is fashionable in their particular discipline, and condescending to those who aren't with it.

When we found the poem and looked at it again, I just did a bit of cutting to perhaps give it a fresh perspective. Nothing re-written to speak of, so it's still all her. Just applying a rewrite rule I was told once---chop until one more cut will make it fall. I thought it was kind of an interesting change:

Darkness
The unknown can be kind
Not to look
At the faults
The brusies
Knots
Cracks
Chipping paint
Torn Curtians
Accept
Close my eyes
Do not fear
Watchers
Judges
Eyes
The shadow taught me what it is
to be Free