something has been severely lacking in my world of late -- journalism... other than my frequent rants or bouts of honest or fiction in this portal, i've been experiencing a creative freeze, an abandonment of all i'd come so far to obtain...
mind you, i haven't been lazy... just unlucky in employment... nevertheless, my resume and voice were heard at a toronto-based literary journal publication called descant... after a dinner time phone call, my interview was set... i stumbled into the office on monday with extreme punctuality and a cafe mocha on my breath at 11:47... the stairways confused me and i could feel myself rising in temperature... my light blue and silver patterned cropped blazer clung to my body... then finally i found the oversized wood door with d-e-s-c-a-n-t scrawled across a pewter nameplate...
"hi mark, my name is tara mccarthy..."
fast forward to the end: i left with a sense of accomplishment... i called a friend to meet for a late breakfast... i walked past the doors of the art gallery of ontario and was reminded that i still haven't checked out the warhol exhibit... over coffee, crepes and eggs over easy, i admitted i was more than happy with how the interview had gone... i had a good feeling -- although this had happened before...
i arrived home from work later that night to a phone message -- i was to call back my interviewer tomorrow... tuesday afternoon, and i can barely stand the wait anymore... it's 2:43 and i dial... it's 2:43 and i'm gainfully employed... editorial intern at descant magazine... perfect, now i'll hit up that warhol exhibit on my way home from work one evening... i feel rejuvenated... i'm back...
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the saying may go that "actions speak louder than words," but in my opinion words actually shout decibels above any move one could make... so expressive, interpretive and intense... all you need to find is a method to your madness to avoid rambling nonsense...
