When I was in 5th grade I remember this music teacher I had, she love to play classical music ( Beethoven, Mozart, Bach, Chopin, etc) and give us a class assignments on the piece she was playing.
I remember, she would close her eyes and simply disappear to another realm, while the music played. I hated those days she did these assignments, simply because, I felt in my heart I never got the assignment right. While all the other students would comment on the music and the history behind it (“Smart Ass!). I would go a total different direction, my composition would take me into a fantasy world, where I would write a tale.
More often than not, I would get my creative juices flowing and I wind up, with a fantastic tale of love and triumph, sometimes, high-speed chases, other times just about mystical creatures and adventure.
At the end of the class, I would very proudly, submit my assignment, expecting for her to say something. Anything on what I had written previously or if I was even going in the right direction. Sadly, she would just politely smile at me and take my paper. Never saying a word, or even commenting on my composition.
I did pass the class, not with the grade I was expecting, actually she was very generous and gave me a “C”. I really wished, she would had explained herself a little better, when she said “Write about what you feel…..”
That is exactly what I did, I wrote about what the music was making me feel, and my hyper, over exaggerated imagination did the rest. So why, did I think about her now?
Sometimes, I really do not know what to write or say, and I look for some inspiration to get my creative writing juices flowing again. This morning, she was my inspiration.
I just wanted to write what I was feeling this morning………….
Cristina Roskoff-Harris
The Poor American
The Poor American 