So this weekend I took a trip back home (29 Palms if anyone was wondering) during my very long four-hour train that took me to Fullerton I thought about “moves”. Actually, everything I did this whole weekend I was questioning how I could relate it back to “moves”. My mother and I hiked Bog Morongo Canyon Preserve in Joshua Tree and I kid you not while I was trekking the five-mile desert terrain I thought about the different “moves” I was making, the lizards (chuckwallas to be exact) were making, and my mom was making. So you must be wondering what were the “moves” were that I noticed, well to be honest pretty much everything I did I was considering a “move” because this entire weekend was being able to make choices, at least choices I don’t usually get to make. This is when I realized how close moves and conventions are as well as where I get confused in defining them. When I am back in the 805 I don’t feel as if I have as many choices ( I know confusing, college is where I feel limited…) this is because my life is so routine here, my choices BECOME conventions. The choice to go to class, the choice to not go to class, choosing to stay in the library until 2 am these are conventions of a college student. Back home I don’t have a “convention”; at least I don’t feel like I do. When I am home I get do decide what I want to do and when to do it without having to fit into a “genre” or “convention”. This is how I see writing, the choices you make outside of a particular genre/convention more easily identifiable as moves. I hope this somewhat right, otherwise, I just would have just confused my understanding even more.
(this is inside the green area of picture below)
Big Morongo Preserve 5/7/16
No comments:
Post a Comment