How did changing genres from your past blog posts impact your writing and meaning making?

When approaching the assignment of making a haiku out of my microfictions, I began by reading the two pieces over and and pulling out words I thought could be useful. I constructed this list in Microsoft Word and was able to make a coherent piece pretty quickly. However, it did not have anything to do with either microficiton piece I had initally written. The haiku was an entirely new topic for me. It only came easily because the words I was able to pull out still fit together in other settings without losing a meaning. As I said, it was not the same meaning, but when looking at the words, it was easy to find one. I was pleasantly suprised by the seamless process of creating my haiku.

I initially followed the same process when attempting to create my found poem. I looked at the list of all my tweets and began pulling words out that I thought could be placed in my poem. I compiled these words in a Microsoft Word document again. By the time I had about twenty words, I was already starting my poem. This time though, I didn't keep referring back to the words. I wrote the majority of the poem, once I knew what it was going to be about, first, and then looked back at my tweets for a second time to make sure all the words had been used there. If there was a word that was not available from my tweets, I found a way to adapt and alter the words in my found poem. The poem seemed to write itself after I found my start.

What I found truly interesting about my new pieces of writing was that neither seemed heavily influenced from my starting pieces, those of the microfictions and tweets. Though it was possible to see the themes in them upon closer reflection, they did not start out from the same topics. When I looked at my finished products of my haiku and found poem though, the two ended up being of very similar topics and tones. This was not my original intention, especially since I was starting with a different set of words each time, but the end result was the same. I think my new products could have potentially been influenced by my original pieces underlying messages, but they do not look to be of the same topic at first glance. By the end of the creation of my new pieces, the theme and meaning was the same.
 
We were asked to pull words out of our microfiction pieces to make a haiku. With the words I chose, I ended up with:

Youth is so precious
Appreciate the common
See, love the journey

Our next assignment was to create a found poem out of words from at least 10 of our tweets. I came up with the following:

Imagine
Home again
Enjoying the eventful treat
I’m here
I see you
But I’m curious, love
You look surprised
I’ve always been here
I knew it all this time
Look past all the fog
I’ll still be here at the end of the day
This is the only one I’ve missed
These are the only people I’ve missed
I hope you changed your mind
I’m home for good this time

I used words from twenty of my tweets to complete my found poem, which are in boldface.
@Linzz88 Agreed- if the snow doesn't keep me here cuddling with my puppy is exactly what I'll be doing tonight too #twitterive
Probably one of the only ones not watching the Super Bowl. Instead in the library for monitoring. Awesomee. #twitterive #wrt1
I missed my baby <3 http://twitpic.com/3u8kwq
The people you have here, you always have here. But me, i'm a ticking clock. So why aren't you here #twittterive
Could barely see on the way to class because of all the fog #twitterive #wrt1
Turns out when babysitting caillou and curious george really are "baby crack." Who knew? #twitterive
My roommates and I never leave if the fire alarm isn't in our own hall...could be risky but that hasn't changed our minds yet. #twitterive
It should be past my bedtime already tonight, but alas I have many more hours of work ahead of me. #twitterive #wrt1
@TarrMart I completely agree with you about Pagnucci- I loved it! #twitterive #wrt1
@linhoop Grammar? I feel your pain; that was the longest class for me last semester!
Can't handle another snow like this at home again today #twitterive http://twitpic.com/3vj1vi
Enjoying this minor break before my four hours of classes starts up again...then zumba tonight! #twitterive
Still need to catch up on sleep. Naptime today? #twitterive #wrt1
@MissJessW @linhoop I had her too; she was a really good teacher but it still took me forever to understand. I felt bad haha #wrt1
@sabatinomangini I've never really liked Twitter, but I'm curious to see if I can get into it this time. It seems more useful than I thought
Home again tonight...could be a little more eventful than I had thought. #twitterive #wrt1
Forgot that only my apartment is 75 degrees. Slightly freezing now. #twitterive #wrt1
Somehow a little sore. Amazing being my friend took the shovel right from me and finished my driveway
yesterday. Looks amazing! #twitterive
Still can't imagine eating pigs feet, sorry. It scares me as a dog's treat too. #twitterive #wrt1
Boy tricked me and suprised me last night- he was waiting for me when I got home- so cute :)
Looks like I forgot to add #wrt1 to all my tweets. Sorryy
 
For this assignment we were asked to take a line from one of Gloria Anzaldua's pieces, either Borderlands or How to Tame a Wild Tongue. I chose the line "So common a site no one notices," to begin my story.

So common a site no one notices. A little boy, about the age of six, stretched out his precious, miniscule hand to reach for his mother’s as they began to walk across the street. Though the mother was smiling, it was clear she was distracted and more focused on her surroundings than her son’s gesture. To her, and to little boy, this was the norm. But as an elder woman watched from behind, she could see much more than anyone else. She had been through it all.

Reminiscing, she remembered starring into her handsome son’s tiny face all those years ago for the first time. He was squirming and squiggling, but was easily the most incredible creature she had ever laid eyes on. His first laugh came a few months later.  He learned to walk at fourteen months, only stumbling a few times on his journey across the room into Mommy’s open arms. She remembered walking across the street with her son arm in arm, skipping and smiling through life.

“Hi, Mom,” her son greeted her, breaking her from her memories. “Sorry I’m late.”

“That’s ok, Brian,” she said with a somber smile on her face. Grown at twenty-two, he already looked just like his father. She looked back, searching for the young mother and son, but now they too were out of reach. She only hoped that the mother would appreciate the time she had with her son, and both their youths, before it was too late. So common a site no one notices.


We were also asked to create a microfiction piece beginning with one of our Tweets. The tweet I chose was "We're going to Camp Bow Wow!" which the little boy I babysit for told me.

“We’re going to Camp Bow Wow! We’re going to Camp Bow Wow!”
the children chanted.

Brandon was thrilled. He and his parents had seen Camp Bow Wow for the first time last summer on their endless drive to Florida. They were on their way to see their grandparents, but luckily, his dad had desperately needed a bathroom, so they happened to stop in the glorious land of Camp Bow Wow. He fell in love at first glance. Though the camp seemed a little out of place for Savannah, Georgia, with its thick evergreen trees and wooden cabins, to Brandon it was perfect. His brother Charlie was still too young to join him, much to his dismay. At least Brandon’s friend Patrick was joining him or his worrisome parents probably wouldn’t have let him go at all. At this point, Brandon’s excitement was unbearable. He could smell the sweet forest air, feel the summer breeze on his neck. As soon as he got there, he was going to jump straight into the lake, where he would spend his afternoon before the campfire tonight. His parents had even packed him his own bag of marshmallows for the occasion. He was literally jumping up and down on the bulky bus seats with the thought, causing quite the uproar when they hit a bump in a road as he would almost crash to the floor each time.

“Attention children!” We are pulling into Camp Bow-Wow now, please grab all your belongings-“

“This is it!” Brandon yelled. He grabbed his bag, ready to jump off the bus. He was home.