Snippets of writing, from poetry to short stories, to chapters from the “finish-it-one-day” novel.
Love hurts.
It’s the pain in your sides when he makes you laugh so hard you can’t breathe.
It’s the giggles that escape when you’re fumbling in the dark,
When a head hits the headboard or the knee a sideboard.
It’s talking excitedly with your hands and taking an impromptu smack in the face.
Continue reading “Love Hurts: A Poem”
Little black eyes watched box after box rumble underneath him. His head, black to the beak, twitched in anticipation.
Air rushed around him, his wings dipped and a metallic scent filled his nose. Another sparrow drifted near, resting on an updraft. He watched. He waited. The first sparrow imagined a titter, a laugh … a challenge.
Continue reading “Killing the Mocking Bird”
A green sprout pushes toward the bright morning sun,
Yawning and rubbing the sleep from is eyes.
He calls out a cheery hello
As all the little bluebirds greet the day.
Continue reading “A Dandelion”I know this is supposed to be stuff I didn’t write for the campus newspaper, but this was a person I met who greatly impacted my life and I hope that I can continue to look at my life differently because of this one person.
Without further ado, meet Luis Aleman.
It was miserable. It was a place where people labored, day in and day out, carrying boxes of potatoes from one end of the warehouse to another — it was the place Luis Aleman spent a year in order to raise money to go to college.
“I remember thinking ‘Is this what hell feels like?’” Aleman said.
Continue reading “Spread Happiness”
Sometimes it is the childhood memories that make up the root of belief. However, for me it was an unexpected college experience that made me realize what I believe.
My best friend from childhood and I were sitting in her dorm room. The hideous puce tiles of the floor were scuffed and dirty, while the pin boards by her desk were peeling from the walls. I don’t remember why we were there. We never really hung out in her room; we had always just hung out in my dorm building. I think she had asked me to come over so we could talk.
Continue reading “This I Believe”
The door, locked to most, hides a secret of campus. To the left and right, and even straight ahead, rooms overflow with clothes. Some are ‘60s patterns and trends, others are silk kimonos from pre-1900. There is even a 100-year-old replica of an 18th century French Court gown worn to costume balls in the late 1800s or early 1900s.
The Leila Old Historic Costume Collection commands much of the first floor, which is actually upstairs, of Gertrude L. Hays Hall. The collection first started in the early 1900s, when a gift was given to the family consumer science department by an alumnus. Leila Old, a professor at the University of Idaho, organized the clothes in 1970 after almost 30 years of donations and gifts. It became the Leila Old Historic Costume Collection after her in 1981. There are over 10,000 items in the collection, dating from the Civil War to the present, and all articles have some connection to the University of Idaho.
Continue reading “A Treasure Behind Closed Doors”