Twelfth Light Rebranded

Wheel Banner

I’m approaching my first birthday here on WordPress. It’s time I get a bit real here, especially since I’ve been absent since June.

Last November, I was in a different place mentally. At that point, I hadn’t been in a grad class for over a year and when I’m not studying, I feel very discontent. Moreover, I was facing some incredibly trying personal situations and I thought that blogging would be a wonderful distraction. So, as most 30-year-olds are wont to do, I started a blog.

Initially, my focus was interior decorating and DIY projects. That was fine. But about six months into posting, I began to feel an overwhelming sense of in-authenticity. This dread first settled in as I stood in front of a dilapidated Ferris wheel in the middle of a junkyard after road-tripping to Centralia, PA to walk the Graffiti Highway. As I photographed the wheel from the side of the road, it seemed like an incredible metaphor to me. My thought was interrupted by an old man who was mowing the tall grass in front of a trailer at the edge of the property. He killed the engine and I asked him about the wheel, pointing out to it in the distance. He said it was part of a traveling fair and, for whatever reason, the company stopped paying their rent on the land many years ago, abandoning all their trailers and rides; they just left them there to rot away. And then, out of nowhere, the man introduced himself by saying, “My name is Jim. Tomorrow is my 91st birthday.” I looked from 90-year-old Jim to the half-wheel and wondered, as most people do from time-to-time, what am I doing with my life?

If you don’t know, I earned my Master’s in English in 2013 (P.S. I barely graduated high school–but that’s a story for another time). So, I imagined my favorite professors reading my blog and shaking their heads, perhaps wondering how I went from studying the Greek hetaera and writing my hybrid genre memoir to sharing a step-by-step guide on how to make a wreath. To be fair: I’m sure they would all be supportive of my endeavors regardless of “scholarly” merit. The truth is, writing is hard work. I’m not trying to discredit home design or DIY blogs; I will still be an avid reader of those sources because I will always be redecorating and crafting as a hobby. What unites all bloggers, regardless of content, is the universal, nerve-wracking feeling before hitting that “Publish” button. What I’m trying to say is, after re-reading some of my posts I found myself missing my former rhetoric–the voice I spent years developing as a graduate student. I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. I enjoyed being creative, I met so many new people through the blogosphere (shout out to my Mitten girls!), and I loved inspiring others to try new projects themselves. But, I’ve been neglecting my true voice for so long, and I need to get back to that work. I imagined my voice as that Ferris wheel, rotting in a field–abandoned. (P.S.S. I tend to be a bit dramatic).

This notion to reinvent Twelfth Light became even more imperative to me after I was offered the opportunity to transfer teaching positions. I spent the first eight years of my career teaching seventh and eighth graders in a middle school.  In late August, two weeks before the first day of school, I was offered a high school English position within my same district. Yes, I’m a high school English teacher (I love saying that!). This transition has reinvigorated my passion for teaching and reminds me why I went into this profession in the first place. And, one of the best practices for an English teacher is to write with/for your students. I hope to connect with my students through this outlet and encourage them to find their voices (whatever they may be for them at this moment in their lives). To that end, Twelfth Light needs to catch up with me.

So, I will be transitioning this blog into a place for my prose and poetry, literary research, and perhaps a sprinkling of student work or teaching epiphanies here and there. We’ll see where she goes. If you’re already a follower, I do sincerely hope you’ll stay with me and if you’re a new reader, I invite you to follow along.

I often sign my posts with “Keep the quill moving,” so I better start taking my own advice!

KTQM,
-Destiny

Post Script:
“Write! And your self-seeking text will know itself better than flesh and blood.” -Cixous, The Laugh of the Medusa

National Poetry Month

Happy National Poetry Month!

For me, being a teacher is never more enjoyable than the month of April because I get to read some of the world’s best poems with my students. This week, when I introduced the unit, I shared my favorite poem (Who Knows if the Moon’s by E. E. Cummings). I’m always enamored with how other (younger) sets of eyes react to my most treasured words.

When I collected all of the papers at the end of the day, I found this annotation scribbled at  the bottom of one:  “So, are the flowers suicidal?” How brilliant.  Who Knows if the Moon’s (1925) E. E. Cummings

who knows if the moon’s
a balloon,coming out of a keen city
in the sky–filled with pretty people?
(and if you and i should

get into it,if they
should take me and take you into their balloon,
why then
we’d go up higher with all the pretty people

than houses and steeples and clouds:
go sailing
away and away sailing into a keen
city which nobody’s ever visited,where

always
it’s
Spring)and everyone’s
in love and flowers pick themselves

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I thought I’d share a Cummings-esque poem of mine and a collection of some more vintage airshow images from France (source).

Zeppelin Bend

We’re from a golden era, you and I.
The kind where people were found facing upwards
looking for Hindenburg and the flames.
We could almost hear the film reels and the loud flash bulbs.
Everyone is discussing the tragedy
at the party (the kind Gatsby would throw)
in their feathers and beads.
“And How!”

We’re vintage, you and I.
Strong as antiqued-canvas,
Our memories pulled taut
over an alloy structure—
and we’re inside, floating toward
an unknown destination.
The best part is that it will
take forever to get there,
because the engine is in
reverse.

airshow 1909

83

balloons53290777803_ce280fb274

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Head in the clouds,
Destiny