Some Blissful Thinking

The hard work is paying off! Today we officially launched the USD Admissions Blog that I have been working on since I started my internship. This blog offers prospective students a casual way to gather information about USD, college life, and how to apply. Click HERE to check it out!

One of my classes this semester is proving to be a unique challenge. In my Melville and Hawthorne literature class, we are exploring the lengthy, infamous novel, Moby Dick. I have never had the pleasure of reading a Melville novel before, though I have previously studied several of his short stories in previous classes, including “Bartleby the Scrivener”. For class each Tuesday, we turn in a two page, single space “exploration” of the text: this exploration requires that we fore go traditional forms, paragraphs, introductions, and conclusions and simply write. As my writing center tutor told me this morning, “Take that idea and run with it until you pass out!” -or, reach the page limit that is. Still in the middle of a sentence or word? Cut it off. Two pages is two pages. Unlike any writing I have ever done before (and I have sure done a lot of writing!), I cringed at first but after a few attempts decided to eagerly accept the challenge. After meeting with a writing center tutor this morning and delving further into the rich text that is Moby Dick, I found the beautiful connection of Melville’s writing to the flow of the sea.

At first glance, the novel Moby Dick appears verbose, filled with unnecessary chapters and writings. Upon slowing down, it is easy to lose oneself in the rhythmic pauses of semicolons and commas, overly elongated sentences, and grand vocabulary that is the definition of Melville’s writing style. To truly appreciate its full beauty apart from the story itself, the reader must allow oneself to be sucked into the novel and ride the tide of Ishmael’s digressions and trains of thought, almost feeling the swell of the waves and ebb and flow of the ocean tide beneath the rocking vessel laced throughout each paragraph:

“There is no life in thee, now, except that rocking life imparted by a gently rolling shop; by her, borrowed from the sea; by the sea, from the inscrutable tides of God. But while this sleep, this dream is on ye, move your foot or hand an inch, slip your hold at all; and your identity comes back in horror.” (962).

Moby Dick itself becomes an ocean, one large body of water in which we, the readers, step into and become swept away by. We have no choice but to follow it on its course, floating along and awaiting the action of the whale. 

I think I am in love, again, with a novel. 

I step out of my front door and glance to the right, captivated by a shock of blue water mere steps from my porch. A gentle breeze lifts the hair off my neck as the late summer sun caresses my cheek. It is early September, yet our favorite season shows no sign of fading. Humidity causes my thighs to stick to every chair I sit upon and slicks of sweat to linger after my runs far longer than it needs to. I welcome these fading touches and forget about my array of colored jeans; fall is simply paused around the corner for now. Nights out with all my friends, reuniting after months- and year, in some cases- send shocks of laughter and squeals of delight into the velvet black sky. Classroom desks are poised and ready for us to finally set into a routine. School has only just begun. To-do lists and stress can wait. Summer, play on. Routine will come soon enough. 

Even after working in the PR field for 20 years, a chance run-in at the opportune moment changed the direction of Kelly Berger’s career path. I had the pleasure of interviewing Mrs. Berger at Brushstrokes Studio Gallery where she spoke about her past, that fateful moment, and what it takes to follow your passion. Read my full article in 303 Magazine, here. 

It is always difficult to stare down the end of a summer: those long, sun-drenched days filled with idleness, sudden vacations blinking past so rapidly that photos remain the only proof of their existence, and hours of self-discovery in internships and subordinate job positions. All pass so quickly during this quarter of the year that seems to stretch for eternity at its beginning.

This point in my life is marked by many comings and goings. From the constant packing and repacking of material items as I shuffle from home to home, California to Colorado, Colorado to California to the hellos and goodbyes with family and friends, something is always changing. Each year, I grow a bit older, a bit wiser, a bit less invincible as my eyes open to the world around me. Excitement of what is to come mingles with anxiety of the unknown as I, too, near the entry to a life unstructured by class schedules and seasonal breaks. 

Tomorrow I begin the journey back to San Diego, allowing myself ample time to adjust to life back by the sea before adding in the responsibilities that so prominently accompany the beginning of a school year. Though saying goodbye is never easy, the prospect of so many hellos as I return to my home-away-from-home makes my heart beat a little bit quicker. It’s time to return to that beautiful castle on the hill, USD.