The Viewless Wings of Poesy

I'm very new to the blog world, but I've been writing journals since I was a little girl, and through my many  lined volumes I've developed a first page protocol.  First page...first post....blog equivalent, right? On my first page I always aimed to give my imaginary reader a synopsis of sorts, where I was at my life at the time.  And hence, "it started with a nightingale".

But before I go so far back: In less than a week, I will be given that inexplicably important piece of paper that says I have a Bachelor of Arts Degree from the University of British Columbia, with a major in English Literature.  I've spent the last four years of my life delving into some of the most significant pieces of literature to be written...well...ever.  I've also read some duds.  But at any rate, I've been pretty constantly reading, writing, and reading and writing about that lovely discipline and thrill known as literature.  So why?  Enter the nightingale.

In grade 11, at Semiahmoo Secondary, I made one of the best decisions of my life to date in deciding to take International Baccalaureate English, and was incredibly lucky and blessed to have Ms. Roni Haggarty as my teacher.  I had always liked English, but Ms. Haggarty brought out in me an entirely new level of passion for it.  I decided to continue on with IB in grade 12, entering the Higher Level of the course, again with Roni.  Along with a bunch of fabulous and sometimes sadly under-read works from around the world, our IB 12 HL class covered the regular Lit 12 curriculum.  And...sigh...there I met my lover, John Keats.

MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,	5
But being too happy in thine happiness,
That thou, light-wingèd Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.

And then the bit with beaded bubbles winking at the brim? And the classical allusions? The transitions between stanzas?? Or the word "forlorn" being like a bell!!? OR THE WHOLE BLURRING OF THE LINE BETWEEN WAKING AND SLEEPING!?

Oh my goodness, I'll take a step back, but you'd best believe a full post on this, my literature "first"(do what you will with that innuendo) will be here eventually.

After reading Ode To a Nightingale I knew Literature was what I wanted to study in University, and what, other than music, family and friends, was something that could make me gloriously happy.

And so, blog world, it started with a nightingale.  I don't know how it will end, but for now it continues with a blog of some sort...Something About Literature...