I was born on a small island that no one had ever heard of until the last few years at which point it became synonymous with stars, models and unbridled wealth.
I pursued my studies in NY, with the exception of a BA in Lit. from UCSB in Santa Barbara, California.
Upon completing my BA I then returned to my small island to build a small house on property my parents had inherited and given to me. As I was completely unhappy with the architects generic blueprints, I threw them out and designed my own house which is composed of as many open doors as there are exterior walls. Then in order to maintain my privacy as the land around the house was slowly being built on, I then made walls around the land, which also help keep my trees in.
Consequently, I share my house with native birds that fly through occasionally, turtles that come asking for water during droughts, and few other insects that are much less desirable, such as mosquitoes, centipedes, and scorpions.
At the moment, I am presently working on renovating the house and the garden, and enrolled in this writing workshop (Gotham Writers Workshop). In the past, I was formerly employed at Roche Bobois US headquarters in NY as translator and then later in an Arabic investment firm where my employers seemed unsure of my position but provided me with generous bonuses.
(My bio for the workshop will end here. )
The only thing that I retain from this job is the memory of the desks reminding me of horse stalls which might suddenly be sprung open during which I and my other stall mates would take off like mad, as during a horse race. The only way I can account for such a strange idea is that perhaps I wanted to run away from the very sterile, stifling environment and free my colleagues with me, even though my closest stall neighbor was a Russian girl who was in a perpetually miserable mood and had a surprisingly rude temperament. I imagine she would bite me as te doors would spring open.
Rereading this, I can see that my last remark seems irrelevant except for my desire to prove to you that by wishing to save even the most difficult of people I am a nice or at least a decent person. However, if I am truly honest with myself, as well as with you, I suppose I should admit that I don’t really want to save my slightly delusional supervisor. But then, I suppose it could be argued that he didn’t look like he really needed saving, but from himself, which goes sadly beyond my level of expertise. If it was possible for me to save one from ones self, I would save myself.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
The Gotham Writing Course requires that all students post our bio.
The part of me which tends to be private finds this a tad disturbing. People will read my stories and go back to the bio. Then what if they judge me on my bio, decide they don't like me and give my stories bad reviews.
Then part of me is curious to read other people's bio. An online writing class could be fertile ground for interesting people or bios.
The more cautious and hobbit like part of my nature thinks I can make up a bio and still have access to other people bio. How fun and no one is harmed.
The more reasonable and honest part of me frowns at the former idea and dominantly take over the project and so with a sigh, I reluctantly decide to post an honest description of my life.
Not there is anything to hide I suppose. It's just, well, very exposing, kind of like being naked. And like being naked, it's not very suprising, all the body parts are there in normal proportion. But then i guess it's human nature to take peeks and compare.
I will be posting my bio on this blog as well. But it is not climatic, or a tv season finale full of gasps and "oh my(s)". Much of my bio info has been spread around here and there. The bio will just create more of a timeline a structure for all my past rambling.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Now part of me is skeptical, it seems a waste of money as I will be taking it online (I am presently living in St. Barth). I have doubts as to whether an online course can be as significant as sitting on hard classroom chairs which demand focus and provoke contemplation. Then also, I wonder if writing can be learned or improved upon through a course? Then also, is this workshop the correct solution? And also this, perhaps I shouldn't even be focusing on writing, but some other more suitable creative outlet.
However at the same time, I reason, I have been trying to write for a while with little success of actually setting my progress to paper. For this, I entirely blame the internet on, as it creates a distracting outlet for searches that invariably lead to new searches, till you forget what you were initially searching for. Now with this class, I am counting on the assignment deadlines to make me more prolific (which according to their website there are 2) and on writing feedback describing the enticing, thought provoking, interesting, merely edible, disinteresting, and yes, coma-tizing about aspects of my work (which again according to website is provide by both a professor and fellow students).
Let the lions in.