Sluggish, But Fast by Filip Zubatov

I am stalking the clock persistently, like a killer to its prey. The hand’s fingers are frozen, but I wait. My eyes never shift from the clock, for the fingers would sprint away. I would stand helpless, like a deer on the road, trapped in the headlights of a car. Why aren’t you making more friends? Why are you eating that? Exercise. I’ll do it tomorrow. A plethora of hopes, goals, and accomplishments waiting at the end of these minutes; both academic and personal. So I rushed through my days, like something was chasing me. Expecting something, without working to make that expectation a reality. I sit, glued to a desk, watching time pass me by, hoping when the day, week, month ends, my work and self will be improved in some way or another. At the moment, life seems to be going by like a turtle walking a marathon. After the turtle has crossed the finish line, I realize that I let each mile go by uncounted, when I should have utilized each one to create something better of myself and what I can achieve.Start tomorrow. I should have started today. The lit crit isn’t going to write itself. Everyday, putting off the goals you have, expecting results. The quality of my work, no chance of improvement, a stalemate, or so I thought. Waiting weeks without pushing myself, the same results. How could my work for Creative Writing or work towards personal goals have a chance to improve without time spent? Spending time you have for worthwhile activities will ultimately help you achieve any goals you have in mind. There are a plethora of ideals I wish to achieve in the near future, and I haven’t done anything to help myself reach them and rather watched time slip through my fingers. A message to everyone reading this piece; don’t watch time pass in hopes of your ambitions coming to fruition, and rather make your expectations a reality with diligence.

On Time by Noa Mendoza

This may be upsetting to some people, but Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is my least favorite Harry Potter movie. While the time turner business is certainly a compelling plot device—and the hippogriff, Buckbeak, is pretty cool—I can’t seem to find my interest held by going back and forward in time and watching the scene of Buckbeak’s death over and over again from different angles. Long before our class today with our current artist in residence, Margot Perin, I had this feeling that time, in any story, is certainly not something to be messed with.

   This is what we talked about in class today—how time is sped up in some stories and how it is slowed down in others. For example, in a horror story, time is usually slowed, to create tension—the writer might describe the moment footsteps are heard behind the main character, elongate the seconds they take to slowly open the door. In Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling elongates the moment Harry picks up his wand, the look on his face, the spells he casts when he battles Voldemort, and describes it in much more detail than when he’s simply walking to, say, the Leaky Cauldron.
   Ok, now that I’m done geeking out— we finished the day breaking up into groups and writing stories with our prompt being only the two words “gender neutral person” and “train.” I’m not going to say that my group’s story was the best, but we did include a beautiful Russian named Fattoush selling hot buns and an exorbitant amount of train puns.
   Also, this is a picture (courtesy of the coolest freshie cat, Solange) of CW enjoying cookies and is super relevant to this blog post.