Denise Callaway’s Picture Choice: Both
Title: Archaic Practices
Sylvan skidded into the grass and embraced the sunlight. A day away from the compound was just what she needed. The brick and stone structures held fast, although they stood crumbling. She had read about them during her explorations courses.
Sylvan took pleasure in walking barefoot across the green grass, She explored the town with the stone arches leading into great places of worship and learning. A rusted gate leading into a yard for a large building had the word “school” across the top. It was hard to imagine everyone studying the same thing. How did they develop their gifts? How did they become experts in their field. The fluidity of learning now took place in context. Reading was taught by parents along with manners and behaviors. Numbers became a part of that process. Once the building blocks were in place, they began to explore areas of interest. She was a historian. She loved delving into the past and trying to understand how it shaped their current times. The maths, sciences, and other subjects fell into place as she explored her area of interest.
Her sister loved science and thus filled her time with sciences and maths so that she could work in research and development. The histories she studied tied directly to her interests. She studied the great thinkers and how they shaped the events around her. They learned through experiment, through doing the work with a mentor or group of mentors until they knew enough to stand on their own. They knew how to research their interest and develop what was needed to complete the tasks at hand.
Stumbling over the loose concrete of the steps, she landed hard. So hard and cold, like the studies that filled its hard. Free of passion. This remnant of a building, though, was a testament to another form of learning. Everyone was taught the same thing without regard to their gifts. It was good in the beginning. However, as new technologies started developing, the school didn’t grow with it. It held to ideas and methods from a century past. Development slowed and become stagnant. New ideas still popped up every so often but not at the rate they occurred now. How many people failed to reach their potential in this structure?
Dusting off her clothes, she examined her palms. A few scratches. They will heal soon enough. Sylvan added notes to her wristband. Cataloguing her finds was second nature. She loved her field of study and even pleasure coincided with work, always analyzing, studying, and comparing. Mounting the transport, she set it on manual. Turning toward the grassy plane, she blitzed across the field. Surfing gravity was much better than falling into it.
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Denise finds herself lost in a field of dandelions. With one blow, her dandelion dreams transform into the words on a page. Some of those dreams have found their way to her website: https://lostinafieldofdandelions.wordpress.com/