The past two weeks I have been working around the clock on Art Night at my elementary school. Every class does two big group projects as well as individual art to correspond with the team pieces. Since I am an artist outside of school, I volunteer to do the lion's share of the project planning and installation I worked putting projects together during my Spring Break. I stayed at work late every day this week. To be honest, there were times when I wished I had never agreed to do this again. Thanks to the help of a group of truly supportive friends the show was finally ready. All the art work was hung. Factoids about each artist and technique were posted. The day of the show kids go on a scavenger hunt to find out information about all the art. Seeing how engaged the students are reminded me that yes, indeed, I will go through all of this chaos again next year.
March 28, 2009
March 19, 2009
Pensive Girl
I am often lost in my own thoughts. I have been a daydreamer since way back. I can sit in my bedroom nest and just think for hours.
People who don't know me well assume I am always cheerful and full of energy. They don't get to see the girl in this photo.
How can someone so public also be so private?
Someone so outgoing be so shy?
I often wonder if all people who have a lot of light also have a darker side. Just something to think about next time you are feeling thoughtful and quiet.
Lip Service
This is where I started for Face Week.
No matter what I think about the rest of my body, I have always been proud of my lips. In fact when I represent myself in art, I always just use my lips.
All my favorite things include these babies:
Talking,
reading aloud to children,
tasting,
singing,
laughing
and kissing to name a few.
March 17, 2009
Spring Splendor
Saint Patrick's Day is an enchanted time -
a time to begin transforming winter's dreams
into summer's magic.
-Adrienne Cook
Learning to Fly
The school was all abuzz that Friday morning. Claude Parsons was bragging that the night before he had swung so high on the swingset that he could circle all the way around the top bar. The grown-ups in our lives had told all of us third graders that such a feat was an urban legend, so we were doubtful. Claude planned to prove his skeptics wrong after school.
All day in class I was imagining him making this glorious 360 degree circle in the sky. I was breathless with anticipation.
We ran to the park the moment the bell rang. And by gollly he really could do it. The only problem is it wasn't the beautiful, graceful arc I had wanted to see. He swung up, over the bar and then gravity pulled him straight down with a jolt that strained the chains.
"Told ya!"
Now that we knew it could be done every eight year old at Lincoln Elementary wanted to try it.
Not me.
I cheered everybody on, but I was afraid. That fall straight down was all I could think about.
I realized today that I am still that sidelines cheerleader. I am all about helping other people face their fears and take off, while I sit safely on the ground. If it's not going to be the perfect 360 degree circle the first time I try, I should probably just stay rooted here.
I need to get on the swingset of life and learn to fly myself.
The Pride of Chicken Little
I spent most of my childhood in this park. When I went back this week for our memory assignment, I couldn't believe all the exact same equipment was still there.
This was my favorite toy of all. It was like a seesaw with animals on four sides of a wobbly central hub. If someone sat on the green frog across from the chicken (which had the most comfortable seat) the movement was up and down. If you could get kids to hop on the toucan or the dolphin then you were going up and down and side to side.
One day when I was around five my father and I went to the park alone. I didn't have anybody to play with, so I just went up to a little girl and introduced myself. Then other kids joined us and the seesaw was jerky and bouncy and all around fabulous. The more the merrier! For me it was just a typical day in the park. It was the walk home that I remember.
My dad is a shy man. As we walked up the hill heading home, he told me how proud he was that I could just walk up to people and talk to them.
He actually asked me, "How do you do that?"
I remember being so surprised that he didn't know how to make friends. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from a father I thought was pretty much perfect.
Layers of Memory
This is a pole from the park of my childhood.
There are so many layers,
so many colors,
so many memories.
When this swingset was green, I just assumed it would always be green. Green was all encompassing at that time in my life. Now green is just a small part of a complicated history for this swingset... and for me. What seems so important to me today, will just be another layer of messy, beautiful color tomorrow.
Who knew a metal pole could impart such perspective?
Memories of the Misty Watercolored Variety
A month of class has passed. Last week we were supposed to focus on memories. Coming up next is the face. Once I post my Memory Week photography you are all caught up with what I have been up to so far. After that you will be part of the adventure as it unfolds...or I guess I should say as it UNRAVELS.
Unraveling classes are now enrolling for May if you want to try this for yourself. Obviously, I highly recommend it.
Saturday Morning Ritual
I journal.
I read.
I listen to music.
I pray.
Jay brings me a tray with mint tea and peanut butter toast.
I daydream.
I journal some more.
I decide that is enough activity for one morning.
It's time for my nap.
My chocolate brown sheets are 950 thread count.
It's like sliding under the fudge in my own personal Sundae.
Or should I say Saturday?
Nest Building
During my worst heartbreak, birds saved my life. I went for a walk on a rare sunny day during the "winter of my discontent." The birds were just as happy as I was that we had a little pocket of warmth that December. Their songs were more exuberant and there seemed to be more birds that day than I had ever seen before. After just a few blocks I realized this whole chorus was in my honor. Those feathered angels were reminding me that I would get through this rough time. Spring is always coming. Ever since that day I rely on my little sky messengers to put my life in perspective. They carry me through on a wing and a prayer.
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