As I review document after document in my final – paperwork – semester of my MFA, I’ve been thinking back on all that it took to get here to this final stretch towards graduation.
…the classroom portion of our MFA entertainment package. Last Thursday I attended the last session of my last class for my MFA. It hasn’t quite sunk in yet, but I’m done with my classes. Forever. My mind cannot fully comprehend how quickly two years can fly past. That does not, however, mean I’m ready to graduate because I still have to finish my thesis. I had hoped to have that done by now, as well, but this semester turned out differently than I had planned. Don’t they always?
To quote the famous poem… April is the cruelest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. – T.S. Elliot from The Wasteland (1922) I am midway through the fourth month of my fourth semester and, alas, perhaps April really is the cruelest month. Despite celebrating the birthdays of many amazing friends and family – including my own – during this fine month, this particular April is proving to be a doozy.
March 4th. Yesterday’s date happens to be my sister’s birthday but it is also a message, as I learned on Facebook (the oracle of our times) when someone pointed out that it is the only day of the year that gives you direction: march forth. That sort of sums up how I feel at the moment, that I’m in a “chop wood, carry water” phase of just keeping it all moving forward. March forth.
Semester Four. Wow. How did that happen? Feels like just yesterday I was waiting patiently for my applications to be processed and find out where I might be accepted. And here it is, my last semester of courses. One of the things that drew me to Stony Brook is that they encourage everyone to take classes outside of their comfort zone. This seemed important going into the process and now, as I am nearing the end, I am absolutely convinced that this structure has made me a more rounded writer, critic and thinker.
This is the last weekend before the semester – my third in this MFA program – ends this coming Thursday. I still have a stack of reading to get through as well as to revise my final portfolio, so, of course, I thought I’d write this instead. Procrastination is a demon, but at least I’m writing.
As I prepare to register for my last semester of classes, I’ve been thinking a great deal about my future and how it might look with an MFA on my resume. Like many of you applying now for MFA programs, the fact that the degree allows us to teach was a major draw for me versus just trying to figure out the writing thing on my own. My main priority, however, has always been learning the art of creative writing with the invaluable opportunity to do so in a community of writers.