The Orchid Journal

Following my Intro to Horse Science class, I always walk to the university Cat Tran stop across from the Harvell building. After going to that same stop two days out of the week at least fifty times this semester at around the same time of day, one begins to notice things. The older and very tall man from India is there often, standing quietly looking down the street in the direction of the Teal tran's route. The row of motorcycles behind the lava rock wall always hold my interest for a few minutes at least. I like the orange one with white blazes on it and I always wonder what the person is like who rides the black motorcycle. Its kickstand is always propped up by a smooth, black rock and the seat is patched with gobs of black duct tape. As I walked up to the stop, I noticed two guys waiting there. There was nothing unusual about these guys in particular except that I knew immediately they were fraternity boys. The fact that I could tell right away, puzzled me. I hadn't s...

There is a woman in my church who is fighting breast cancer. I have known Elsa and her sweet family for over two years now. Recently, Elsa requested that I help her write her story. When she explained her desire to write children's stories that would be used as resources to teach the complexities of cancer to children with parents struggling with cancer, my skin was covered in goosebumps and my soul pressed on me in a definitive, "YES, I will help!" Here is a godly woman with a husband and two small children, staring death in the face every time she goes to the doctor, and she is asking me to glimpse a part of her life, share in it, help tell her story. Is there a more humbling experience than to be asked to join someone in telling their story? Our stories are unique. No one has the same memories or experiences. Even two people sharing the same experience will process the event differently, feel differently because our history and personality colors the way we view...

This is my second attempt at creating a blog. I tried to make one last summer, but it remained empty and unused for a few weeks like a blank canvas awaiting the first brush stroke of the artist. Not that I consider my writing on the same level as an artist, but I was neither inspired to write, nor did I think anyone would be interested in reading a thing I had to say. It wasn't long before I deleted that blog. This time may not be any different, however, I do have a plan. Since I am majoring in Creative Writing, I have found that having a place to write out vignettes or random stories and memories has helped trigger ideas for the creative non-fiction pieces I need to write for class. I also noticed that it was helpful for me to get feedback on the Facebook notes I had written, which I later used to refine and expand certain pieces for a final draft. We are encouraged in our classes to write whenever anything comes to mind and to also find people to read our ideas. So, the ...