The Journalman's Impression

A recent paper I finished for my summer term, enjoy a little history! Pioneer Passion and the Hard-Fought Road by George-Login      I approached the oak tree of magnitude in awe of its shade that surrounded me and pondered who else on this property once sat under this monster in deep thought. This now quaint land of 3 acres in Woodburn was the site of my paternal family’s new home in 1850 Oregon Territory, and has been appropriately called the “Settlemier House” by the French Prairie Historical Society. The house was once a symbol of pioneer resilience and ambition for a man of political stature, Jesse H. Settlemier. His father, (My great grandfather x5) George Franklin Settlemier, joined a caravan with his young family of 13 (12 of them boys). Thinking of ancestral nostalgia under the soft leaves, I researched a few grand sources that were bestowed upon me by my grandmother. What drove my ancestors to continue such a long journey to the new west? What kind of resilience...

    This is a small excerpt from a memoir I'm working on. I think I am a little intimidated by psychologists and never really felt like therapy with a stranger would help. Writing this is my own therapy in finally dealing with things that stick with me to this day and I hope to grow from it. A Prayer Answered.      One night of immense darkness, I lay on my floor-bed in deep thought. I let the emotion of the situation wash over me again, tears forming in my eyes for a problem never-ending. I clasped my hands and shut my eyes, communicating with my patron one last time in desperation. I prayed for them to hear my call, to see my lot in its suffering (a repeat of every night I made this call). This time was different though, I vowed it would be the last time I tried in deaf pointlessness. For 2 years I attempted this silly game with no answer. I remember thinking, muttering under my breath in hopes it made my message louder,  “God, there is no way out of...

            As I reflected on my life, working through my process and attempting to philosophize my present, I pulled my journal to the front page to see how far I'd come. I was damaged, deeply, and now more than ever I want so badly to be so unapologetically, ruthlessly and honestly me. Part of this archive project is working through who I was, who I am, and who I want to be.  God I was an angsty 15-year-old. 30th of June, 2014 I received this journal a long time ago from my grandmother. I've always been the conservative type when it came to talking about my feelings and emotions. I'd much rather bottle things up in hopes I forget. Seems like things just continue to remind me they're alive and fresh in my memories. She gave me this leather-bound book with the intention it would somehow give me a sense of rest. I've been skeptical of it, leaving it on my shelf and occasionally using it for sparks of thought or music. And now that I am utilizing t...

  Arboretum George-Login I sit atop vibratious feet. The book I read was once a piece. Wet ink that splotches ‘cross my page, Stain its sheet with marks of rage. It bears the fruit of power once stole. That mighty plant thick brush so tall. Yet shys from kin in neighbors view. Blink just once it changes hue. Shed your thought with fervent grace, Become a new one in your place. The bark is bitten and hurts to touch. But only if you peel too much. So scan the hand in glamored pain, If it’s so that it should rain, Come beneath the canopy And read a page, a piece of me.

Zeitgeist George-Login It spun in dancing beams, The air thick with paper. I wrote my Geist onto breathless thought, The moment lingering. Reaching into darkness my finger slipped, Uncertainty wrapped around it. Yet I wish it lasted forever. Elegance is it's name, kindness it's mantra. Venus marbled their skin, I admired art at last. Gaia's natural masterpiece, A magnum opus of humanity. Dexterous passion splashed before me, I painted my own art. Planning my landscape. Choosing it's aura. And she chose her own. Haikus of least importance, somehow lasted through my memories With prints I left upon her canvas, Each Touch A New Color. Pastels were not mine, Burgundy retribution was, a fire that burned for me. If only it would just last, Please, forever? If only it would.

 Hope and Vengeance       My experiences in early life have revealed to me the definition of true resilience; weather the storm, let your mind bob with the waves, and keep hope you will make it to tell the story. In 2010 my father passed away and what was cold mourning was also a sweet release from a clasped prison. The years leading up to his death were claimed by anguish, a struggling relationship between us that had been contorted by a manipulator and liar. Patiently I waited, as a hawk soars above its target, waiting for the swift wind to fill their wings with a current of passion. With each day of physical challenges I could feel resolve building in my throat. Resilience shaped my clay mind to hope for the future and wait for absolution.       Mysteries began sprouting in our home when I was 5 years old, I remember quite clearly the first of these events. Walking through the front door of my home as I returned from kindergarten, I was su...

An assignment from my last English class in high school; A collection of memories in words.   Boy . George-Login Make sure you’re closing the toilet seat every time you use the bathroom; Your bedtime is 9:30, no exceptions; Stay on top of your homework, C’s are unacceptable; I’ve always done what I thought was best for you; I’m sorry i didnt see what was really happening; Dad would be proud of you if he was here today; Didn’t I tell you to have those dishes done by the time I got back; You should go to college, live up to your family name; You have to follow through with any obligations you’ve committed to; You have your entire life to work so stop trying to rush things; I would just enjoy my own spending; Visit Grandma as much as you can, they only have a limited time; Stop antagonizing her and maybe she wouldn’t hit you; I didn’t do anything she came at me viciously; You better use this if I buy it for you; I’m glad you enjoy school, I hated it while I was in; I only got to 9t...