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melissa's journal entry
march 22 |
Colored Memories Just as my childhood consisted of two distinct parts in two different locations, there are two colors which dominant my memories. In many ways, colors have always been important to my moods. I was always described as a sensitive child, and my environment tended to always be a factor in my outlook in life. Of course, later I learned that I was bipolar, and that there was more than just sensitivity going on. |
| welcome to journal entry march 22. I wrote the essay on the right for my memoir course. I have enjoyed listening to other people's memories in my class today, so I decided to put up one of my own. My assignment for next week is to think about my audience for my writing, which is topical since I do this whenever I write my journal entries online. Right now I am working on my application for the graduate assistantship. I already have my professors willing to write references. | My first part of childhood, from infancy to age eleven was dominated by the color green. I can remember sitting on my tire swing in the front yard of my house in Houston, waiting for the hurricane Alicia. I watched people carefully boarding up their houses. Everything was quiet and still, with the sky turning a bewitching green color. The green lawns, overgrown in mid summer, had shadows upon them from the clouds above. Nothing was amiss, it seemed, because Houston always appeared to have a green glow about it. However, the frantic movements of the people around me trying to protect their homes was now framed by that green glow. |
| Anyway, I am looking forward
to my friend Maricel's visit. And I am still cleaning. I
have emptied out two closets, and am not working on
organizing my computer area. However, I am going to
finish! Today I went to half-price books, and fell in
love with the bookstore. I bought a number of books by
Orson Scott Card and Marion Zimmer Bradley. I have
finished Mists of Avalon, so now I have more to read!
Anyway, back to cleaning. See ya later, Melissa |
In the second part of my childhood, from age eleven to my early twenties, the color blue surrounded me. Outside, sitting on the grass (which was blue tinted and sparse from the drought), feeling the ground shake over and over again, I looked up at the perfect blue sky. If I was floating in that cloudless sky, I wouldn't feel the earthquake, and the aftershooks, that shook the ground. It was safer outside, and I watched the other children and the teachers try to comfort each other. The blue sky seemed such a contrast to the panic that was now on everyone's face. Mid August, the weather was perfect, and the threatening sky I had been used to in Houston, was now transformed into the Californian soil. The blue sky, despite the ground below, represented peace to me. |
