On Teaching- a repost of a facebook rant by me.

Teaching- I've avoid posting, but now it's my turn-

Teaching. I'm a little over half-way to retirement. Once I decided on this career, I invested in it- time, money, passion to be the best I could be. I got my boards, then renewed them. I got my master's degree, and am almost finished with another. I hoped to one day get a doctorate- not to leave the classroom, but to *stay* in the classroom, doing what I could with the weight of the title to make things better. In the meantime, I worked hard. Laughed, loved my kids, fussed at my kids, cried over them. Buried a few. Watched others grow into incredible, magical adults. I made art, learned things, taught things. Bought, begged and scrounged for supplies. Stayed countless hours after school for gate duty, tutoring, productions and just plain 'school stuff'. Worried and worked all summer to reinvent the wheel- updating lessons, management, technology to try to keep pace. Yes, I get very tired, very frustrated. Sometimes I lose my temper. But overall, I love what I do. I love teaching, and my story is a common one. Many teachers put in the same time, effort and passion as I do.

Our state (NC) has chosen to make changes regarding tenure, pay, degree value and other conditions. This makes me sad, angry and scared for my future. While I did not go into teaching for the money, the profession did provide me with the stability, security and flexibility to raise a child as a single mother. I have always worked two jobs, and know how to live on small means. Now, that security is threatened- and I am left with:

1. Ambition- a partial degree and aspirations, but no time, support or incentive other than intrinsic to complete them.

2. Sallie Mae at my door. Education is *expensive*- my education was priceless, but paybacks are due and I have to find a way. This is a constant worry.

3. Fidelity. I *love* my schools (Trask and NCVPS). I'm old fashioned in that I stick with something to the bitter end- but financially I would do well to change states, change jobs. I don't want to- but tell that to Sallie Mae. Also- quite frankly- I'm settled. I could uproot my life, but I'd rather not.

4. Future Shock. How are we going to recruit and retain quality teachers in our schools? How can we ethically encourage students to enter the field of education? Why would our Universities and Colleges continue on offering graduate levels in education if our state teachers cannot afford it and cannot profit by it? The huge impact of this decision echos from early childhood throughout University-

5. What have I done wrong? I understand and support performance reviews- they are critical to maintaining excellence and self-awareness. I understand (boy, do I ever) the need for budgeting. I believe that we can work on finding/creating other ways to modify the budget. I might be taking this personally- as in the 'what have I done wrong'- but it is personal. This decision feels like a punishment, and I'm not sure for what.

6. Attitude. Again, I love my job, my kids- but I get tired. I don't want a parade, and I don't expect to be a millionaire, or a thousandaire- but I also did not expect to still be at the base level of needs at my age. To have to worry about making enough to cover shelter, food, necessities, medical (don't get me started on that!). To have no- zero- zip- zilch- savings. No material recognition (as in money- not as in a pretty pretty paper award) for hard work well done. Don't get me wrong- there is emotional/ intellectual satisfaction in doing a good job and seeing the kids shine- but frankly, that does not put ramen in the bowl.

7. Hope. Hope that things will change, or that I will find enough mojo to change myself, reorder my life, try something new. Hope that all clouds pass, that together we can raise our voice and not only be heard but be *listened* to. Hope that this moment is the bottom of the barrel, and that we now begin the long climb up.

Blackberry Summer, or a Lesson From Karma

Blackberries from the Yarden @ Tanglewood

June 25th already- summer is passing and I do my best to hold onto it.  It feels a bit out of order because after school we usually do Texas first, then the Highland Games, then home stuff.... but this year is different.  Mr. Owens has been booked fair solid for June (Hooray! Look for him on Homeland!), I was worn out at the end of school, and so we are at home now, then the Games, then Texas in mid-late July.  Going (hopefully) to NM first to see Sister Sue, then to Mothers- plans, plans.  

And we all know what happens to the best laid plans of mice and men.  Cats.  No seriously, every summer I start off (just like in January) full of 'to-do's' and 'resolutions', then I worry myself to bits when I am not getting them done.  I get in a weird freezy state of 'I have a bunch to do, but I want to relax so I'm not doing it' which ends up in to many naps, unproductive time and alteration between nibbling on lettuce and tearing up the ice cream.  Then- just when I'm feeling compliant with this mud, karma steps in and gives me a good shake, let's me know I'd better get on with it.

Which brings us to yesterday- Monday, I think it was.  Mr. Owens away on set for the day/night- big plans to 'do things' for me.  I first had a grandiose plan of surprising him by painting the bathroom... but then decided not to after doing some research and deciding that extremely high humidity was probably not the best time for a major painting expedition.  Then the new laptop came!  (Just a simple one, but good old Evie can't keep up with new technology anymore...) Yay!  Then I had plans of organizing files, getting a good start on next year, working on my current classes.... but first had to learn to negotiate Windows 8.... and the whole time it is raining.  Not just raining, but thunder/lightening/buckets of rain...it has been doing that for days but yesterday was intense.  Power went out so...naptime.  Which turned out to be a good thing.

When I woke up, power back on finally, I was lazy and indulgent- slumped on the couch, watched a movie, ate junk... had intermittent conversations with Mr. Owens between set breaks and weather killing our signal.  Finally gave up, said goodnight and headed off to bed....and Grendel called.  A going away party for a friend at Buffalo Wild Wings turned into chicken-in-the-throat.  They (Andrew and Caroline, great folks) got him to the hospital, waited for me to get there- and also stopped by to make sure Serene went out.  (Serene is the new dogg).  After the usual rotor routing, lecture etc, we headed home about 4.  I picked up Serene, bundled them both into the truck and came home.  What else to do?  Grendel is sleeping off the sedation on the couch, Serene has partied with Bear and Max- they are both worn out and sound asleep.  I am back up, intending to work, write, do things- while also keeping her in line (via waterbottle and 'No'), and watching the hoards of workers swarm over the pumping station across the street.  It shuts down everytime it rains hard, resulting in assorted red lights and alarms, nasty smells when they fix it and general chaos.  It's raining again now, and is supposed to continue all week.....

Anyway, karma.  Now I don't flatter myself enough to take all this personally, but I do consider this a wake-up call.  No wasting time worrying about wasting time- there is no profit in that. Find the grace in action, and do what you can to avoid the cosmic spray bottle.  

Midsummer's Dreams

Midsummer brings dreams, even though by our calendar we count the solstice as 'first day of summer', it is the longest day- midpoint of the year.  Tomorrow.  First week into summer vacation and I have done the usual- cleaned, worked in the yarden, a wee bit of writing, lots of online work, smattering of art, devoured four books and am well into the fifth, have become suddenly obsessed with circuses and gourds- and tangled with the demons of time and sleep.  Time because I am aware and not aware at once- the days vanish quickly, though I do not usually know what day of the week it is, or the hour- I just turn around and the day is gone. Which creates a feeling of semipanic that I am either 'wasting' my summer - either by drifting along unaware, or by obsessing so about it passing that I do not enjoy it......or not getting things done.  I have a hard time anchoring in the moment- either it passes unnoticed or I worry about what is coming, what needs done.  Sleeping- I am much, much less stressed now, attitude improved tenfold, but the sleeping hasn't changed- more if anything. Ten hours a night- usually now from 8 to 6- plus at least one nap of an hour or so during the day.  Despite the new medicine (which does make me more 'awake' and productive during the day- clearer), despite cutting out sugar and bread and trying to get out and move around more.  Sleeping, full of strange midsummer's dreams.

I always dream, always remember them.  I know their symbols, pacing and meaning for the most part.  Strangely enough, my dreams have changed now- and the relaxation I feel during the day is twisted into strange anxieties in the dreams.  Nightly I have to take a test or turn in a paper that I haven't done- a fear of being not only unprepared but *unaware* that my performance is to be evaluated. Panic, stress.  At the same time, I dream of uncovering treasures- one of my positive signs that I am learning, that I am feeling ok.  I dream of the houses- the one on Luzerne Street Extension most frequently, sometimes Headacher or the Green House in Sugar Grove.  I am often dreaming of our little gray house by the sea, and either moving back there, or having to move out. Always fixing up, tearing down, parents away- soon to return- have to get things ready, cleaned up.  Or, in the case of the Grey house, in order for the landlord.  What does this mean?  A need to mentally 'get my house in order'?  Another version of the evaluation dream, but this with a chance to prepare?  I dream of dogs- our dogs from years past- slipping out of the house, and the worry trying to chase them down, bring them back to where they belong.  I dream of students of long ago, my first years teaching, students who are now adults.  They are adults in my dreams and I meet them with their families.  One student in particular I dream of with twins- she does not have twins in real life, only one son, but lately she appears with twins.  Always happy, always they are dressed for the spontaneous holidays of childhood, mischievous three-year-olds with glow sticks and light up shoes.

I dream of the 'old people'- Auntie Lou has been the star lately, which is odd.  Usually Granny Wrye stops by for visits, but right now it has been Auntie Lou and the hot summer dust of her parlor, listening to baseball on the radio.  Sounds of street traffic and the curious way that a house can be surrounded by noise but silent all the same.  I dream of my dad lots- and my mother- time travel dreams back to other times, places.  Again the houses.

Then- I also have these strange action-adventure dreams, which are rather fun in a stressful way.  One night it was about zombies- but not the typical zombie dream.  This time *some* of the zombies were good zombies- sentient- and I was working with others to save them (for some reason- not sure why?) from those who sported on shooting up zombies for fun.  The dream involved lots of running, hiding in barns, playing dead, gourds (yeah- I know) and dogs.  The dogs were the comic relief- our 'friends' except I remember clearly one of the good zombies explaining how hard it was to play dead when a dog was nibbling on your leg because that tickled.

And so it goes- sleeping into summer.  I am trying to go with the flow, and promise not to write so much about my dreams- like most dreams, they are interesting to the dreamer and boring/confusing to everyone else.  But the dreams of midsummer are magical, and sometimes revel things that need to be known.  Like the unexpected laughter of zombies.

Somethings are not meant to be.... or my big fat shopping adventure.

Skinny Jeans Suck.

So yesterday was 'spend-money-day'.  We started off with a set of badly needed new tires for the car- brand new tires- and that was the bulk of the money.  When Mr. Owens returned home, I set off to carry the monster off to get his car back from the mechanic, mail the go-around sketchbook, and do a few other errands.  I managed to get the clean art rags back to school, never did mail the book- the car was successfully repaired and driven off happily into the sunset.  I now had a free afternoon in the city- and Mr. Owens encouraging me to 'take some time for yourself- have girl fun', and off I went.  

My plans were basic- perhaps a new book at the bookstore.  A new belt for Mr. Owens, and a cd for Owl for Father's day.  Easy.  

World market was first- one of my all time favorite stores ever since Sister Sue took me to one in Texas.  Contented browsing, free tea, a really bright cool shopping bag with Mermaids on it...and a sale on shower curtains.  Now, I have always been a white-bathroom person for the most part.  I have painted the windows, and Grendel's bathroom had a boy-friendly bright fish shower curtain in the grey house, but basically white-is-right.  The bathroom at Tanglewood (which is the project-that-will-never-end) is mostly white-ish, different shades, which fit with the cottage look of it.  Clear glass bottles, a few paintings, Einstein.   When our last (white) shower curtain wore out, Mr. Owens bought a practical-sensible heavy clear curtain that has lots of reinforced pockets for bath-stuff.  While that solved the problem of side of tub overflow, our narsty water has quickly stained it....uck.  What to do?  A cover-up cloth curtain for the outside of the tub seemed ideal, but I was not fond of the Walmart choices, the price, and .... well.....nothing suited.  Back to the World Market story-  shower curtains on sale.  REALLY on sale.  I looked at the tame ones, then somehow ended up with a wild Indian print that has every color of the rainbow and that will make my gypsy-bathroom dreams come true!

Barnes and Nobles?  Easy peasy.  New Stephen King book (Joyland).  Found a treat for Ms. Ball.   Ran into Mr. Flowers from Topsail, considerable amount of school chat ensued.  During this time something odd happened- it happens every summer around vacation time, but it did take me unawares...... the desire to 'get something new for going-to-Texas'.

For years and years I have relied on dresses and skirts- comfy,easy, love them.  Last year I saw a not-so-flattering photo of me in one of my then favorites....I immediately vowed to lose weight, get rid of my tummy...yeah, like that happened. Not. So I still wear them...but am a bit self conscious.   Figured though that since I was looking for a belt for Mr. Owens, I would go check out the sales at Mayfaire. (Non-locals, this is the 'upscale' shopping place that is also home to World Market/ B&N).  Wandered into Coldwater Creek, nice stuff, but costs more than the tires.  Went to Belk- beautiful women's clothes on sale, including some awesome Indian-print (still on the shower-curtain groove) dresses and skirts.... but 'on sale' is relative. And the belts?  Well....yeah. Nope.   Tried to go to Kohls, but got lost in traffic...ended up at Old Navy, where of course I bought a sweater.  Then headed over to Target, figuring that I could kill all three birds with one stone.

Oh the deception of Target!  Racks of tempting things on sale, I quickly scooped up no less than five pairs of pants- despite the very confusing sizing (Fits 1,2,3,4,5,6 in American sizes- the fits are cuts, not sizes- until you get to the 'fat lady clothes' where the sizing pretends to be European or something to make us feel better.   As in 'Oh, I wear a size 6 in FLC').  Ok- pair one.  A nice gray....good start....then AWK.  Should of been labeled 'extreme sausage style'.  Fits tight, tight, tight at the bottom, up the legs, then- once the butt is sort of wedged in- all extraneous fat is pushed up, out and over the top.  Not a good look.  Quickly started checking, trying on and discarding the rest of the pants.  No matter the 'fit', or the 'especially for curvy girls'- they all had skinny, skinny legs....and while the curvy girl styles did cover the butt without causing a fatalanche, I still had the sexy silhouette of a blowpop. Not attractive.  Well- I lie- this look *does* work on: Charles's sisters and Movie Wife, all of whom are tall no-butt types, teen age girls who are still in the skinny stage, and the girls from Maple Hill- not small by a long shot, but they make it work and twerk their way to stardom.   But me?  No.  The world is not safe.

Let me rant on the other clothes for a moment:  I am no fashion maven, and 'style and trend' is fine for some- but can't the rest of us please have some plain choices?  Seriously- there were pants in every color, which is good.  A variety of cuts to fit body shapes- even better.  But Skinny cuts? Seriously?  And the plethora of tie-dyed pastels, flower prints, polka-dots etc...... again, kinda fun, good for some, but  people would think I was a couch.  Dresses- lots of dresses, beautiful dresses, even dresses in  the right colors *except* HORIZONTAL STRIPES.  If not totally striped, lets put a strange big horizontal stripe in some sort of 80's neon color right across your tummy or butt.  Now *that's* attractive.   Oh- let's make the whole thing either strapless or spaghetti strapped.  Which means you have the choice of either going braless and looking like you are either an earth-mother throwback or shopping at Walmart in Wallace......or wearing a strapless bra which is a device made by Satan to ruin the whole theory of 'comfortable summer dress'.   T-shirts?  A safe choice, until you realize that the perfect shirt in the perfect color is either bedazzled within an inch of its life, features an age-inappropriate cartoon character, has weird cutouts or itchy lace, or...wait for it...says "Twerk Team" on the back.  Yes, that does exist.  (If you don't know what 'twerking' is- it is a dance that involves bouncing your booty up and down while twisting/squatting/bowing....rather....uh...well, let's just say that it is not something *my* body is capable of doing, or would look attractive doing.  Leave it at that.)

OH- and there are no men's belts at Target.  I didn't have the energy to look for cd's.

I did finally end up at my home Walmart, where belts were located as well as- low and behold- a pair of dark jeans and a pair of short jeans existed that were *not* skinny, not expensive and actually fit.  I guess that I have found my fashion niche.......

Keep calm and Twerk On.

Flower storms

Glads from the Yarden

Officially summer- no regular school, it's hot-hot-hot out, rolling thunderstorms and all the glads are blooming.  Mr. Owens has planted lots of glads- I have lost track- but they are sparking out in salmon, flame, purple, yellow and the rare green.  I came home from school on the official last day- which was a dozy for various reasons- and he had two vases full of them, one on the tv, one on my desk.  I pick off the wilted blooms and put them into Turrello's basket, he has a real thing for flowers, and he sleeps contentedly on them in the sun.

The last day of school resulted in an adventure, of course.  No sooner than I arrived than Grendel called- the Saturn had broken down on the way to take Serene to the vet.  Boy, dog, car stranded in 90+ temps, mum to the rescue.  After some magic, Serene made it to the vet, where she was spayed successfully- she is doing fine.  The car got to the mechanics for a new alternator, due for pick up today.  (along with new tires on  Capone- money, money, what can you do?) Boy was kidnapped into forced labor at school with me, where he cleaned the art room, hauled multitudes of trash to the school dumpster via Hobo cart, and did other narsty chores while I did paperwork.  Things worked out for the best, they always seem to in the end.  Lucky that way.

So now, summer.  Teaching online.  Trying to figure out trips, visit everyone, balance everything.  I really miss Mother and want to see her badly- I feel so guilty for not being there, not communicating better.  Now that I am waking up I realize just how shut off from everyone/ everything I have been, and I apologize- will try to do better.  Words are just tricky right now- even the tone of this writing seems a bit off, comes slower than the usual flow of water words.  It will get better, just have to trust and keep going.  Life is good, live it well. 

And that is what happens- I am working on building up to length again writing wise, I am ok with very short things (facebook) and pictures-  images have always been my best way to communicate.  I am at the awkward part of my sketchbook now, where the Spring book is almost finished and I am anxious to start a new one- but I still have a few pages left.  If I leave them blank I feel unaccomplished- I think when I do get to the new one I am going to work from both ends at once and end up in the middle.  Might be better, I don't know.  I did go through all of my sketchbooks- well, the hardbound ones- the other day, dated and labeled them, put them in order.  It's amazing the journey- from the first efforts from undergrad, to my first completed black book in 1999.  Several years to fill one at first, then stepping up to the 'almost filled'- about one per year, then two filled per year, to my current 3-4 per year.  Drawings, writings, notes, memories- my life all sprawled out.  If I count just the 'big blacks', this spring makes number 30.  Plus there are 20 more other sketchbooks- spiraled, large, small, from classes and from long ago- way back when I was a kid.  And that is just what I kept.  There are other books- journals, which were my life-rope during and for the few years after my divorce- the altered books, partially started smaller sketchbooks and the thin 'summer books' where I taught myself various things.  Thousands of pages.  Interesting to me~ and to others? Who knows?  My kids like looking at the Big Blacks, Mr. Owens likes seeing what is in my book-of-the-moment, what will happen to them someday?  Not sure, but they will stick around for awhile, have a better chance of being seen I think than what is online.  I love online, and this blog, but that fades away-  Life is short, Art is long.

Summer~

Wilmington, NC

Summer!  Finally- wasn't sure I would make it but I did- kids are out of school, virtual school starts tomorrow, just a few teacher workdays left.  Summer.  Transition with all of it's joys and sorrows (yes, I know that is a cliche', but apt.)  Promising myself that next year will be different, that I will do things differently, be a better teacher, have more patience, be involved- be awake and aware.  Hopefully.  Vowing to spend the summer writing on the blog, making art, getting things together for next year- high hopes that balance precariously with the reality of having a hard time getting started on things, wanting to just be still, quiet, alone.  I have a sudden great love of silence.... the aftermath of the chaos I suppose.

Actually, off to a fair good start here- last weekend I power cleaned while Charles was in Charlotte.  The living room, kitchen, studio and bedroom are ready for summer- the bathroom (ick as always) and Rose room need to be done yet.  And the porch, the dog-room that will be transformed into man-cave (one of the potential agenda items for this summer), never ending work on the yarden.  We have had our first tropical storm (Andrea) and the mosquitoes are out in full force, finding me particularly tasty as always.  Let's just say that if I lost a pound for every bite, I would be below my goal weight soon.

Ok.  Updates and roundups, since I haven't posted forever and ever:

The Manz:  is my super-star.  What was a lark last summer- submitted on a whim for an extra bit- has uncovered an unexpected talent and has taken him amazing places, with more to come.  It was just a year ago round about that I put him in for 'Caged'- which turned out to be Iron Man III.   Since he began with that last August he has been in the following movies:  Iron Man III, Catching Fire, Safe Haven, Adrenaline, My Name is Paul, The Remaining, Dale Archdale, We're the Millers,World Made Straight and Tammy.  He is background in most of these- featured in Catching Fire, made the trailer for My Name is Paul.  Television-wise, he has been in: Revolution (ep. 5 and 15), It's Supernatural, Lizard Lick Towing (catch him tossing tables around in ep. 306), Banshee, Homeland, and Under the Dome. You can spot him in upcoming commercials for NASCAR and (a leading softdrink that I can't say in the blog).  He has been working steadily at this- and still tow-trucking between times- has traveled to Atlanta, Charlotte, Raleigh, Black Mountain and various other local places for shoots.  (Sometimes I get to go along!  Hopefully lots this summer- though most things are filming locally right now- but we are hoping for at least one trip to Nashville).  We got to attend the Iron Man III local premier and party- fancy eats, champagne, red carpet et all.  Keeping fingers crossed for the Under the Dome premier- downtown at Thalian Hall- Stephen King will be there and I am hoping to get a glimpse!  Other things- saving up for the National Beard Championships in New Orleans in September- working on growing it longer.  The beard is the 'moneymaker' and the longer the better.......

The Boy:  (Who is still my boy, even though grown)  Will graduate in December officially!  Hooray! In the meantime he has moved to a larger, nicer apartment with a new roommate.  Still close to work, but in a much better section of town, the Peppers live in the same complex, and his roommate is nice.  He has finally inherited the Saturn and has his first set of wheels~ and rumor has it that he is looking for a dogg.  (Dogs are welcomed at the apartments- his roommate has a chihuahua, which is supposedly good for a chihuahua, but not his type of dog).  The roommate, btw, is a girl- not a girlfriend, but a girl none-the-less.  He also has moved along at the bookstore, acquiring the small perks that come with being a faithful employee.... looking now ahead to his future career, applying to graduate school for computer science if he hasn't a worthy offer.  Happy, healthy, red-haired- planning summer adventures and living his life.

The Doggs and Turrello:  Max is pleased to announce that he has hair (mostly) on his butt.  Still missing a few patches the spine stripe and by the glands, but it is mostly back.  Bear is the same as usual.  Turrello (the cat) has decided to take up acting like dad- while he hasn't made it on screen yet, he found an old pair of Groucho Glasses (with the nose and mustache) somewhere and that has become his new favorite toy. Along with his unusual love for rose petals (his window basket now has dried rose petals scattered on his quilt- he steals the roses Mr. Owens cuts me from the yarden and plays with them until they fall apart)- Turrello has become quite the.....male equivalent of diva?  Charlie Sheen?

Me:  Ok, me.  It's been a rough year, but we are finally getting things settled down and improved.  Good news is that all the assorted testing turned out ok- there is just a chemical imbalance in the brain that makes the flow of electricity disrupted.  Thus the sleepiness etc.  What is causing it?  We don't know yet, but I started new meds a week or so ago and they are helping.  A LOT.  I still sleep bunches, and am not so great with numbers/time, but I am doing better!  Hooray!  This has been my wake-up call- I am *not* doing leadership things anymore, time to give that load to someone else.  I am going to live, make art, write- do more of what I like and less of what I don't like- the pay is the same, I've glass ceilinged career wise (at the point where I would lose money by going to higher education, but they are cutting teacher pay across the state- at this point I am 'grandfathered' in and safe, but if I left then came back, it would be their opportunity to put me at the new, much lower, tenure-less pay rate.  And I'd have to wait tables.)   Maybe I'll write a book.  Paint everything.  Who knows?  My goal is to enjoy myself and live again- not spend all my hours working.

We are planning on traveling this summer some- out to Texas to see Mother at least- when depends on 'Cupcakes' schedule for filming.  I don't care when- just so we go (I miss Mother- and everyone- terribly)- and just so everything is smooth sailing.

Stacking

It is finally springtime, more or less.  I have slowed way down, haven't written forever, slept through spring break though I also did a fair amount of cleaning and catching up.  We have been working on the yarden, mowing and cutting back- I can't believe that I let it go so far.  Strange, being like this- time is liquid and each day seems to be both eternal and fleeting, and the years?  I have no idea where they go.  I have always been bad with time- I can't remember much about what year I did what in, or how old I was when such and such happened, I have to go through an elaborate ritual of finger-year counting to figure it out.  Why?  I don't know, except that it is hard to make time important to me in that way- instead I just move from time to time, dawn to dusk, dream to waking.  I live through the time, but become anxious and upset when I start dwelling on 'oh, must get this done by x' or 'dang, missed that deadline' or 'I have so much to do and only x time to do it' or, worse yet, 'what have I done with all that time?'.  I imagine a life without those boundaries where I could move season to season, doing things as they come about.  I have to many lists and clocks and calendars.

Yesterday evening I was reading in bed- the manz was out at work- and just pausing to look around the room as sometimes I do.  It was not quite dark outside (yes, I was in bed reading already- and that's ok) and our room was lit with a combination of diffused twilight and my lamp.  I started noticing the stack in the above picture, and thinking of that- how time works, and where each piece in the stack came from, what they were once and what they are now.  I'm kind of like that.  The bottom white iron stand I saved from a dump in Boone- it was abandoned by the dumpsters and I loved its curves, the worn cream color, the fact that it was still sturdy after the rest of it was gone.  I imagine it was a seat at some time, with a cushion- (notice the dip) part of a vanity for a girl or lady.  Did they make them out of iron?  It doesn't matter, it is what I want it to be, and for now, that is a stand.  The large wooden box on the bottom- I'm not sure where that came from.  I've had it for a very long time- perhaps a flea market in Charleston?  Another dumpster find?  A cast off at an auction?  It is a paint-box, one of those used by artists who paint outside.  Inside it has compartments and a broken stand, stained metal cups that once held linseed oil and solvent.  Memories of paint.  I wonder who painted with it?  I was going to make something out of it someday- but I like it as is.  Above that is a jewelry box, the kind so common at one time.  Cream vinyl, red velvety interior, little shelf, mirror, pegs.  I have no idea where it came from either- yard sale or thrift store? It latches, but doesn't lock. The narrow white box is a cigar box.  This one I do know about- it was a project turned in by a student.  They brought in the box, sanded it, painted it with a beach and palm trees.  I keep letters in it- the student was from Samoa (of all places) and is now grown, tending bar in Wilmington- two of his sisters lived with me for awhile on the island after one of the hurricanes.  I run into one of them frequently in our walmart- her and her clan of kids, all tall for their age with long dark frizzy waves of hair.  Someday they will be my students as well.  The last box is the most special- the blue and gold tin, looking like something found in a treasure room.  This box was at the magic auction in Warsaw- the pharmacist auction where the manz first asked me out, where Melissa and I acquired all sorts of mortars and pestles, science glass, books, the magic cactus, my little feather pillow and this box- which was left behind, abandoned on a stack of stuff destined for the dumpster.  I saved it- and inside are notes from the manz, a dried rose, the red satin box my engagement ring was in, other mementos. Bits and pieces of time and place and memory.

I love things like this- cast off bits, stacked and used to create a new meaning, like so many words put in a different order.  Like my life, and time, this and that stacked to create the day any way I please, to fill with things expected or mysterious, to be quiet, private, personal and yet part of the all of it.

Of Memory and Elephants

Yesterday I didn't go to school.  I was tired, my throat hurt, but mostly I was tired.  So I stayed home, slept forever and ever and ever, was taken care of by my beloved Mr. Owens who fed me ice cream and hot tea, and I read a book- a whole book- for the first time in forever.  The book was one of the free books from Grendel's store, and was 'The Circus in Winter'.  The setting is Lima Indiana, and the story is made of smaller stories that circle around the circus people during the winter off season- mainly in the 30's- but drifting back into the 1800's and ahead into the now.  The author echoes her real life in the stories- she grew up in a winter circus town and many of the characters are based around her family, in particular her great x 2 uncle that was killed by an elephant.

Elephants remember things, keep things to themselves, somehow have immense power, wisdom, gentleness and sadness rolled into one. Or at least that is what I have been told about elephants, having not known one personally- my experience is limited to zoos and circuses, a brief ride on one as a child and later when Grendel was a child, and the elephants that my Mother collects.  Trunk up for good luck, Ganesha (I have a painting and statue of him at school) is the elephant-headed god of luck and valor, elephants though are mainly out of my experience.  But, the book.  The book was not a 'jolly circus book' but a rather stark and grim retelling of how it was- the hard work, the tangled relationships, the tragedies and- of course- the magic.  I won't tell you all of it, or even recommend it for reading, for it disturbed me and kindled strange sad dreams, mostly about elephants.  What I can say though is that I fell briefly into another world for a while, and that was good- but now I am feeling the echos of discontent that come when you know that something bad happened long ago- and you can't do anything about it- but you are sad none-the-less. Books have the power to do that to you, television and movies you can cast aside- they stay for a bit but easily move on- but a well written passage in a book can stick in your heart like a thorn.  Elephants.

I think my overall tiredness from yesterday is an echo from Saturday and the testing.  I know that may seem strange, it being so many days ago, but this is how it went.  The tests went fine, I'm supposing.  It was morning, I was awake and 'on', the tasks suited to me for the most part- arranging blocks into patterns, drawing a complex shape then redrawing it from memory several times, memorizing lists of words (which was easy for they broke themselves into stories and pictures in my head.  Words are always easy).  Knowledge (who was Marie Currie? What is the theory of relativity? Are you kidding me?) , vocabulary (my usual- I knew what the majority of the words meant, but could not pronounce them correctly).  What tripped me up was sound (listening on headphones to many words said at once and differentiating between them), math (the fast reciprocal math bit), and... I think that is it.  Did great on the 'what is wrong with this picture' part.  Hours and hours of this testing.  I don't mind tests like this, and I wonder about their validity- I expect that most of this was easy for me simply because I am an artist and educator.  The common knowledge is kept in the forefront of my brain because I refer to it constantly, the patterns/drawing/pictures are all part of being an artist and what I do daily.  Words and vocabulary are always a pleasure- I have been a reader and played with words since I was very young.  If the test was geared towards the flip side of my brain- recognition of equations, memorization of strings of numbers (there was a part like that, but it was strictly short-term), things of that nature I would be lost.

What is curious is what happened *after* the test.  That afternoon I was out with Grendel, and sleepwalking through everything.  Sunday, a few bright moments that I spent grading- but naps and general malaise.  Monday at school was a nightmare- I couldn't wake up, I wasn't making sense when I was trying to teach, I finally gave up and just endured the day, and then my night class.  I decided Monday night that I had to have a day off and thus I called in.  I slept most of the day yesterday- waking to eat and drink, about an hour of work, reading the book and (Finally!) getting to watch Mr. Owens episode of Lizard Lick.  (He is awesome- hair flying, table flipping, mud wrestling....).  Then I slept some more.

Today I am up, after a night of elephant dreams and stray dogs.  The wind is howling outside, I feel better but still dreamy, not quite real.  What I should like to do is have a day to dream and paint, write some more. What I will do is put on my shoes and go to school, plan and grade and try to teach (I am going through a crisis that I am not a good art teacher.  I am a good *teacher*, but the art part? Not so much- I can do it, but I don't teach the technical things well at all- mainly because I don't care much about that part.)  Then a meeting and then home.  What next? I don't know.  Dreams of elephants.

Simple Magics of the Heart

I am a great believer in magic.  Not rabbit-in-a-hat magic (though that is cool), or magick with a 'k' (which inevitably includes the scent of patchouli, unshaved underarms and a tendency to misspell words by adding extra 'k', 'y' or 'e's here and there). Just the simple magics of everyday life- little customs and charms, stories, an awareness of what makes a moment special, makes a home safe.

Grendel and I were out and about Saturday after my endless testing at the Doctors (which included math, word memorization, drawing, 3d puzzles, common knowledge and the like- of which I found them very easy with the exception of the last math part which was a timed reciprocal adding...bleah.  Afterwards I was exhausted and not very good company....but still managed to stumble around....back to the story)- anyway, the boy and I had this conversation about houses and ghosts.  Little magics and things that he remembers, and it is curious because they are the same sort of things that it seems I have always known, always done.

Find a penny and put it on the lintel for luck, hang a mirror by the door, count crows, stamp white horses for a wish. Pick up pins, hunt for clovers, turn the broom upside down and say bless you- and if they sneeze often enough turn it into God bless you, God keep you and may all of your children have curly hair.  (Mother must of sneezed quite a bit).  And then there are my own quirks and things- our cottage is full of them, our decorating theme being 'curious hag' or something.  Windows full of bottles, wish stones on strings, walls of scissors and crosses, witch balls in the kitchen.  There is a cauldron on the hearth and way to many books (I keep bringing more home), we have a blackish cat, an abundance of keys, collections of stones and bones and strange papers from far away.  We find things- old letters, sharks teeth, shells, bottles- we are given things- quilts and lamps, bits of art, feathers.  Mr. Owens knows what to bring me for gifts- always has- from the first set of old keys to the shell he found Friday, pale orange and as long as the first joint on my thumb.

What is all this?  Simple magics.  Just things, stuff, ideas that we give a home to, that become part of us and define where we nest.  White dishes and open windows, lavender shirts hanging to dry. The quite in the morning and the constant work of the day, the way the doggs snore and the cat sleeps on the heating vent.  The stack of pillows on the bed, the milk in the fridge, the coffee and the tea.  There is nothing much elegant about it, or refined, perfect, immaculate, but there is a comfort here in our safe place, a happy air to our home.

Rabbit Rabbit

Rabbit mosaic at Cinderella's Castle in Disneyland

Rabbit Rabbit- it is March, and therefore Spring, and therefore I am ready to shed the grays of winter and move into the hopeful greens.  Always loved March, turbulent though it may be- the winds and unpredictable of the weather.  Growing up, you could count on snow for St. Patrick's day, and even here in the southlands it might snow again tomorrow night.  But today is to be windy and sunny- cool and clear, a good introduction to Spring.

Mr. Owens is up early today- he has to drop me off on the way to Southport (wish I could skip school and go with him!  Would love to spend the day wandering around the town, drawing, photographing and hunting down at the wharves....but duty calls).  Anyhoo, he is on the set of Under the Dome, which is a mini-series for TV based on a book by Stephen King.  So guaranteed good and creepy, with a possible dose of cheesy.  It's exciting though because hopefully he will be back and forth until filming wraps in July- so I may have my share of days down in the old port after all.  Today is especially fun because he is cast not only as background but also in the 'churchgoer' scene- so he gets to wear dress clothes.  I had fun last night helping him pick out the right shirt, suit and ties to take- a variety, plus a variety of 'casual wear'.  We don't get to dress up often, and he wears a suit so very well- I am hoping they will choose my favorite dark suit with this lavender shirt and tie of mixed greys and purples.  Looks so lovely with his hair and eyes.  (I think I have a celebrity crush here, eh?)  Absurdly proud wifey.

As for me today, school- endless grading of virtual school, instructional meeting at our school, classes of course and continuation of prom work.  Prom this year has a 'Once Upon Your Time' theme, so it is all Medieval castles and fairy tale stuff which is wonderful fun for me.  (LOTS of work, but fun).  This week I taught the art club about heraldry, and they designed banners for each discipline.  We are in the process of painting them- but they are looking great.  To go, a big backdrop of the castle in moonlight, with sides of heraldic silver unicorn and golden dragon.  The castle facade for the entrance, two 'tapestries' that are painted, wishing well and frog prince, vorpal rabbit and shrubbery.  This is fun to because while the prom-star (Kelly the English teacher) was suggesting princess hats and a pumpkin carriage, we sort of morphed it into Monty Python meets Game of Thrones.  Lots of hidden jokes in the banners, the rabbit is of course from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and the big tapestry paintings are going to have all sorts of cool things worked into them.  Finally, a prom that is FUN!  We might even go!

Obviously I am in a better frame of mind this morning- seasons turn, payday, Mr. Owen's cupcaking, fun art- and Grendel gave me boxes of free books from his work which I took to school.  I gleaned out some for LC and I, one for Croson, let Donna come and get first pick, then turned them loose to my second block art kids.  It was amazing and like Christmas- they circled the table like sharks, bartering each other over who got what  (I'll trade you this for that, oh look there is two!  That conversation was not over a popular novel, but over a history book.  I am amazed.)  In the midst of all this Dr. Sullivan comes in- asks what I was doing- some of the kids were sitting and working (non book lovers), others happily filling up boxes and bags with books.  I explained that I was giving the books away and he looked astonished....not so much as that they were free (free books are easy to come by these days sadly) but that the kids were so excited about them.  Then he spotted a few hard bounds of his favorite author, and asked if he could borrow them....one of the kids said 'no, these are for keeps!  You get to keep them!'.  It was so funny..... made me happy though.

In the Well of Souls

Mixed Media in Sketchbook

It has been awhile since I have written, again. I don't know why I have such a difficult time allotting time for things I love- like writing, but so it is...and I think I get better at it then I fall back into the same old traps again.  Work. Procrastination, which is work-based...it is not so much that I put off working (I don't) but that I have a hard time with prioritizing, then over-work things that don't need it, find myself tangled up in layers of leadership that I don't really want.  As soon as I step back from one thing- the museum job- I am double hit with an extra class online (which I do for the money) and the instructional leadership team at school (which is an honor- but lots of work).  And the endless county transition meetings and keeping the herd happy.  I get tired, and I long to sit and read or play or just be a passenger until I remember that I get carsick. The metaphor is apt because it is the same when I am not leading- I get impatient with waiting for information, for others to understand, for those reading aloud to catch up.  (That is a reflection back to grade school- I read so fast that it was torture to hear others read aloud, stumble over words that I already knew. Not pride speaking here, boredom.  And I can see the same thing happening in my classes but I feel powerless- we can't leave the stumbling behind but the swift wander off in their boredom, and in some ways that is even more dangerous.  State of education- feelings be damned, level the classes.  It is better for everyone-).  Anyway, enough of the whining.

SO, what have I been doing?  Working.  Burned the yarden off in the front, beginning to get a grip on it- early blooming and then it snowed.  Now it has been cold and rainy for a week, with a bit of occasional ice, back to winter but things still stir.  Mr. Owens has been filming Revolution, and a movie in Charlotte, today he has a casting call (that he doesn't know about yet- he is still asleep and it was just posted this morning). Yesterday I tossed in the towel- I *do* have the sniffles, but they really aren't *that* bad, and spent the day in the studio.  I worked in my sketchbook and the round-robin journal for the virtual school, took several naps and watched endless episodes of Toddlers and Tiaras (yes, it is my junk food for the brain) and a few spooky movies (whatever it is that I am stressing over, it is not nearly as bad as the whatevers people are coping with in scary movies.  Funny/ romantic/ dramatic movies just either stress me out more or annoy me when I am stressed.... which results in Mr. Owens watching a romantic sit-com about a vet's office in one room while I am deep into 'Fangoria' in the other.  Opposites, but attract).  Likewise, I don't like to write much when I am feeling overwhelmed- I see it as posting endless whining (which I can't abide) about something that I am not able to change at the moment.  I don't want to stress anyone out- or seem to be a total train wreck, for I am not.  I am getting by and this is something that I have to come to grips with and figure my way out of- this coupling of work and worth and my tangled brain at the moment.  Which they are working on untangling, but we are still not quite sure how to do that- more tests this coming weekend. I do know that certain behaviors make it worse: eating sugar, procrastination, marathon work days- and I know that limiting my diet, fresh air and organization make it better.  Trick is, I forget and the body goes on automatic- the mind is so focused on keeping above the surface of the tasks to be done that the body ends up refueling on its own, or wandering off aimlessly. (as in, I *need* to write this, then suddenly find myself up and roaming around looking for....paperclips.  or tape.  or some trivial physical thing). A lack of grounding.

Today, please accept my apology for not writing, not posting, not calling or contacting- and I know that today's post is not much help, but it is what it is, as they say.  (Actually, I hate that saying 'it is what it is', for various reasons.  It is a lazy way of giving in and accepting the unacceptable).  Truth be told, I want to scramble up to the surface today, try to get a focus and a grip, to hold onto the edge of the well and see the sun.

Hello, Crow.

Twa Corbies by Arthur Rackham

There is a story, an undercurrent to the world, and sometimes we are made aware of it in interesting ways.  It is what sustains my belief, rather than any tithes or words, books or chapels or promises to keep- though those are important in their way.  Rather it is the belief that things fall in place for a reason, and that the simple seemingly trivial actions of our days can echo in strange concurrence.

There is a facebook game where people give you a number, which represents your age.  For that number you answer questions about where you lived, who you loved, what you did, what you feared or wanted- things like that- then post your current age and corresponding answers.  It is interesting to see how lives turn out- and what people where like at other times.  Frannie gave me an age- 25- and I wrote about being a new mother, afraid of the landlord and the wolf of poverty at the door, working many jobs, living in Boone- and how that now, at 49, I am a woman, artist, scholar, wife, mother- still with many jobs, and fearing the inevitable consequences of student loans and the like.  But that is not what is important- what is important is that if someone 'likes' your post, you give them an age and they carry the game on.  And that is what I did, and that is where the undercurrent of belief comes in.  (First note:  I have been working waking to dark for the past two days on online school, it is odd that I took a break to play this game, odder still that Frannie gave me a number- why? I don't know, she doesn't tend to play this time of game either.  And then for the people who responded to see my post and respond- out of 700+ 'friends'....and now, for scene two.)

One of the people who liked my post was a former student, one of my black sheep students who was sent to me because no one else could tolerate him in class.  I gave him a number- 11- and he sent me a message, because what he wrote was to private for the world of facebook.  He told me of the death of his mother and the struggle of being raised by his father and step-mother, which eventually led to him protecting his little brother, the step-mother being institutionalized, and the brothers cast into a shuffle of living place to place.  In high school he acted the ass, even though he is fiercely smart and talented, and lived wherever- mostly with a girlfriend in a camper behind her house. He spoke of how his life is now, how he regrets his behavior (which was mischievous  not malicious and was forgotten long ago) in school, how he has a place of his own, a car, a job, a girl he loves, and how he is turning back to his talents and writing and drawing.  Creating a life of his own.  And then he told me about a dream and asked me a question.  (Begin scene three).

His dream (and we are talking sleep-dream, not aspiration dream) was a lucid dream.  A bridge in the fog, a crow on the bridge, and two phrases spoken- one remembered, one not.  He asked me if I knew anything about crows as a symbol?  Are they important or not?   

Crows and I are old friends.  Seems I've always loved them, but I did formally study them as well- as birds in Ornithology way back at Edinboro- the first birds I cared for live were captive crows, the first taxidermy I did was a crow.  Years later at ASU I studied the crow as a cross-cultural psychopomp, writing papers for Literature, anthropology, art.  And I've kept up the awareness, more or less- so yes, I do know quite a bit about crows.  And this is what I told him:

The Crow is powerful, the voice between the worlds. A psychopomp (which is a term I taught you all in class but is mostly forgotten as in 'those weird things the art teacher goes on about'). Anyway, the psychopomp has two important jobs: to escort the dead between worlds and to carry messages from the spiritual realm to the physical. Psychopomps are found in all cultures, all religions, ancient and modern- and the crow is one of the key players worldwide. Crows are tricksters, both lucky and wise, and are independent spirits. They belong to neither the 'good' or 'bad' 'sides'- but are actors of their own volition. As mythological creatures, they are typical of crossroads spirits- they like mischief, food/drink, material things and their deep knowledge is hidden by their antics. (Remind you of anyone? Mirror, mirror). In Jungian psychology, the crow is recognized as a communicant between the unconscious (collective and personal) and the self. Riddles and secrets- the appearance of the crow in your dreams in such a distinct way is not to be ignored. Crow's statement is curious, and taken with a grain of salt- he is telling you "I'm not going to tell you that you are dead." Which could mean a number of things, depending on how you take it. My perspective is that you are in transition- not material death but a choice to choose. Crow- or anyone- abdicates the power to direct your life, what you select to bury, reanimate or nourish- you have the power to choose as you will. *That* is not a common realization- most folk feel like their lives are their chains, and they have to drag everything around with them always. Get to know crow better- suggested reading (right up your alley) is to visit the following fictional but true crows: Matthew in Neil Gainams Sandman comic, the first Crow movie (but more importantly Jay O Barrs first comic if you can find it- the rest of the movies are crap, and the comic is a rough first effort- the drawing sucks in places- but the story is excellent). The poetry of Ted Hughes (who was the British poet Laureate for a while, and the husband of Silvia Plath) Neil Gainams 'American Gods'- a huge novel. Charles de Lint's 'Someplace to be Flying' (and most of his other books). Others. Mythology wise, Raven/Crow is important in Native American religion as a trickster, world-starter, psychopomp. Norse- Odin has his crows with him always (memory and mind/thought). Christianity- Noah first sent a crow to find land- the crow found the land and 'claimed it for himself'. African religions- crow is associated with Legba, Guede and Baron Samedi, trickster guardian of the cross roads and the dead. In Asia, there are three legged crows that carry the sun and messages.... and on and on. 

Anyway, what happened here is that *I* remembered crow as well- and the incredible power we all have to choose.  "We forget that what we forgot isn't meaningless"- a quote that I will do well to remember.

How is this going to play out?  I don't know, but I feel as if I played my part.  The right question at the right time, and the answer to that can change a life- or at least create a current in the river.  Is curious strange this world of ours, and we would do well to listen to its stories. 

Small Things and Time Slips

Leaf with Web.  Radish Group, 02/05/13

Time has slipped away from me again as it sometimes does, and suddenly it is February- and getting towards the middle of it.  I have been working non-stop (4 am to sleep) for the past few weeks, focused on classes mainly but also finishing up things- the portrait (which I didn't like, but did anyway.  And framed it.  And the *only* person who said 'Thank-you' was the librarian.....either it is much much worse than I thought or it was just passed over or something....but public 'Thank-yous' were given to those who organized the event and made the meatball appetizers. Ok, I may be petty- and the foods teacher is one of my friends who goes above and beyond and certainly deserved an award for all of the time spent on catering all of our school events- but......gee whiz.)  The HOSA flag is done, prom is underway.... and I just don't know where the time goes.  I don't slack off, not at all, but am always trying to ketchup.  Today is my ketchup day- I am staying home from work to work, to hopefully get all the details of stuff squared so that I won't have to be quite so frantic all the time. Thing is, I cut back on one thing- dropping the museum- and other things rise to take its place.  An extra section of classes to teach.  Workshops on the 12th (going to) and 18th (facilitating- while being audited by the Friday Group, which has to do with Race To The Top and the Federal government..... they will be in attendance observing the Fine Arts transition to the new curriculum.... no pressure there, just a major part of federal funding evaluations for our county......).  And I was called to the office the other day- good thing/bad thing- I had been named as one of four instructional leads for our school.  What that entails is working across departments to vet and align curriculum, and training all the other teachers in instructional design.  All of things that I love, and I'm teamed with the Science teacher Croson (which is awesome as I will explain in a bit), and they swore up-down-and-sideways that it would not take time out of school, but of course it will.  In the meantime we train others on Tuesdays during our Titan hour, and meet as a pod group on Fridays.  There are also representatives from Exceptional Children (to cover modifications for those populations) and Guidance (data. testing. ranks.)- so total a team of 6.  Exciting, but exhausting...already spread thin.  

              

But it is for the good of the kids, and it does work- as evidenced above.  Last summer I wrote a grant- 'Square Earth'- that had to do with combining art and science to document our local area, increase environmental awareness, and as a part of Project NOAH, which I participate in.  We purchased the cameras and supplies, but Croson and I did not have a chance to work together at all first semester.  This semester we have appropriate aligned classes, and combined two of them to begin the project.  My class was taught the basics of digital photography, her class the basics of environmental structure.  We combined them into groups and sent them out with cameras and scavenger hunt lists (and us!).  The groups are named after the cameras (which I name- because it is easier to remember 'Radish' than 'The pink nikon #x'.  We have Radish, Rose, Eclipse, Shadow, Crow, Snow, Salt, Phoenix).  The kids loved it- they worked really hard to find things- and managed to find things that I couldn't, or didn't think were out and about yet.  Crawfish, Lizards, flowers of all sorts.... I loved this to- field biology being one of my forever things- and combining tramping around with photography and good questions- excellent way to spend a morning.  What I loved the most is that the kids were curious. *That* to me is the most valuable part of the class- getting them to be curious, ask 'what is that?' or 'how do I do this?' .....that gives me more hope for the future than any test score ever. 

I am forever glad that I was encouraged to be curious, to ask why and to explore.  That is why I keep teaching I think- to see how it will all turn out, and to share that curiosity, hoping to infect them with just a bit of it.  And to do this well, sometimes I need to step back, like today, and just get things done and out of the way.  Then I can continue on my quest.

Wander/Wonder

First spread in progress.

"Nothing is perfect, final, or fixed in this material world."

Hectic (of course) beginning to the semester- zillions of new kids, plans, reinvented wheels and much to do.  But I did make some decisions and begin to draw some limits, and I feel the better for it.  So far.  I did resign from the writing team for the museum- as much as I love to write and work, I wasn't doing a very good job and was overly stressing.  Likewise, at the end of this year I think I am going to resign from being the curriculum lead for the arts- I have done it for several years now, got us over the transition to the new curriculum (well, by the end of this year), and am tired of the responsibility.  I want to take a break from leadership and just focus on teaching again- both online and in the classroom.  And I want to make art.

I *do* have art that needs made for school- Meg's portrait by Friday (did I mention- like a kabillion times before- how much I hate to do portraits?) , the HOSA flag.  My smart kids have already begun the prom stuff, so I am easing off there.  Just need to get these things wrapped by the end of the month and then THAT IS IT (besides prom and MY stuff).  Selfish?  Maybe.  I'm ok with that at the moment.

Anyway, I did begin an altered book, which I haven't done for years.  I love doing these- and was inspired to give it a go by one of my kids.  Crystal is in the creative writing class, and I was snooping the syllabus, and thought 'hey, I really like these assignments!  I haven't written like this for awhile- might be fun'.  They write and then put the finished work into an altered book format, and I love that as well.... so this is my treat.  I am going to play with the creative writing, play with this book (which is titled 'Making it All Work' which is rather appropriate), and just have some non-committal fun. If it turns into something great, yay, if not, that is perfectly ok as well.  I tell the kids to practice and play with  their art- while I practice all the time (and play) in my sketchbook, I sometimes forget to play 'outside' as well.  This is my format for doing so.

Oddly enough, the first page I turned to had a phrase that caught my eye: "Nothing is perfect, final or fixed in this material world."   It is like a fortune, a reminder- you can't always fix things, perfection is impossible  and nothing is ever 'done' - not in a depressing way but rather in a way that ensures that the world is always dynamic, growing, changing.  Nothing lasts forever and that is actually a very good thing- we have to be open to constant evolution of ourselves.  We are not the same as yesterday, and we will be different tomorrow- and it is OK to quit holding on to patterns of behavior that are not working anymore, even if they once defined success.  That is my lesson right now- I worked very, very hard to get to the top of my profession- and I met those goals.  This change doesn't mean that I am a slacker- hardly not- but that I am ready to shift that energy elsewhere.  And this, this is my start.

Cupcakin'

Cupcake fit for a Supastar!

Mr. Owens is my cupcake.  My glittery gold superstar cupcake, and this morning I have been cupcakin' instead of working (sinful me! but in my defense, I have only been up for not quite an hour...).  I call him cupcake because of my obsession at one time last year with Toddlers and Tiaras, and the 'cupcake hands/ pretty feet' that they are told to do when going on the runway.  When Mr. Owens began acting, I would tease him about practicing 'cupcake hands/ pretty feet' for when he gets his eventual Oscar, Golden Globe, Sundance etc. awards.  (Which *will* happen someday- at least in our world!)  

The roles came in steady all through the fall, then shortly before Christmas trickled off, everything shutting down for the Holidays, ratings to come in etc.  During this time he has gone back to being a Knight in Shining Armor, rescuing people beside the road with AAA.  Irregular hours, on call all the time, out in the cold (currently)- it's bacon-money but I worry.  He works very hard- but it makes him sore and I worry about him being out on the road, especially at night or in bad weather.  Even though the truck has the big yellow flashing lights, people tend to ignore the obvious*....and I don't want him squashed.

*side story on ignoring the obvious:  This semester I have 3 HUGE classes f2f, and 2 HUGE classes online... in my last class of the day I also have a mini-class of 3 honors art students.  I have happily handed prom off to them, and they began painting one of the backdrops yesterday.  Since the class is so large and chaotic, they moved the canvas out to the hall way, put newspaper under it, painted it and pushed it up against the wall to dry.  At the end of class, I warned my 30 beloved students that it was wet and to avoid it.  They all managed to- even though they are wild about getting home.  Then, after school, I had two seniors stop by to say goodbye- they graduate tonight.  I was all set to go home and walked out the door....to discover that one of the seniors (the guy, who is ginormous) HAD WALKED ON THE CANVAS.  Now, this is NOT a small thing, and the primer SMELLS, and ......but no.  Walked right down it, leaving tracks of huge boots.  Which can be fixed, no problems....but he DIDN'T NOTICE and these huge white paint tracks continued down the hall, gradually getting fainter until they reached the water fountain where they faded away.  So guess who was on her hands-and-knees scrubbing the hall after school yesterday while the wrestling team (who run laps inside, up and down the stairs) gleefully ran by, taunting me with 'Hello Owens!  Second job, Owens?  etc...... and that is why I worry about people squashing Mr. Owens even though the truck has big orange lights.

Anyway, back to cupcaking.  He is booked for a film for several days and one full weekend in February  just submitted for another episode of Revolution that is being filmed right here in Burgaw, and Stephen King's Under the Dome is starting to film in Burgaw at the end of Feburary- fair sure he will have a spot in that as well.    His Lizard Lick episode airs: Lizard Lick Towing, Episode 306: Family Feud/Party Down/BBQ Sauce airs Monday, February 25th at 10 PM on TruTV.  Safe Haven premiers on Valentines day, and other things will be coming out soon.  He is also up for a few print shoots- one is a photo essay on beards and the other an illustrated story- hopefully we will hear back soon on those.  In the meantime, keep fingers crossed, the fan club active, and I *must* find some of those gold edible glitter stars!

Little Red Wolf

Red Riding Hood and Friend?

Today is the first day of classes for the new semester- an art foundations, two crafts and two photography.  All classes that I more or less love- except the art foundations- but I am trying once again to reinvent that so it will be better.  And of course I have the first day jitters- never mind that this is year 16, that I have started semesters now 32 (!) times not counting summer school.  But I'm anxious, worked steadily on school stuff all weekend- I always reinvent that darned circular thing...you know...the wheel I think its called?  I really don't have to work this hard, but I do.  Hard work is my safety net, along with fast typing. Grace in action and all that.

Red Riding Hood is not one of the archetypes I identify with often- I don't know why exactly, since we spent an inordinate time taking groceries to Granny Wrye when I was younger- and I had this book that showed her happily toting bread, cake and wine in a big big basket.  Yesterday though I ended up on a RRH kick, using lots of different variations of images for one of my lessons.  It is curious how this story is so popular right now- stories are popular because of the chords they strike in the audience.  I think of Red alone in the woods, cheerful and gullible, with her basket of bread headed some place safe- trying to do a good deed.  She knows that she was taught about wolves, but she doesn't quite believe in their badness...she tries to see the good in everyone.  The wolf is a predator, but is he wise or a fool?  Instead of being direct, he is tricky and clever, like the coyote, but ultimately fails because of his foolishness.  

In this picture Little Red is meeting the wolf- he is smiling/snarling while she protects her bread.  The wolf looks like my old coydog Ruffian.  I have been dreaming about Ruffian night after night lately, her and great storms blowing in from the sea.  I am taking this as a watch and a warning to be clever not foolish, to guard against greed, watch out for woodcutters- open eyes make for a safe heart.  Funny, I suppose I am the wolf afterall.

Project

Project in progress- altered doll head for garden.

I have decided to just go ahead and be as 'colorful' as I want- and that includes turning the yarden at Tanglewood into an environment.  Of course, it wins hands-down as a natural environment, over grown and wild, full of life- but I mean an art environment.  I am horrid at gardening, but I am good at art- and this seems like a fun thing to do.  And it is a project for *me*- not because I *have* to do it to meet someones standards and deadlines, but because I *want* to do it.  Now, trick is just making time for it, and not turning it into another albatross.  

Sunday I began- not that I didn't have anything else to do- a multitude of school work for the new semester at both schools, plus the writing-that-I've-been-avoiding, plus the portrait of Meg (I hate painting portraits- just sayin), plus a request to redesign the HOSA flag for school (In my spare time before Wednesday), plus wash the dishes, pay the bills, the regular lump and bump of the house hold.   So, I put on my apron and worked back and forth between school work and creative work- and yes, right now it is creepy, but I have a vision for this doll's head.

The head itself is one of those large plastic Barbie heads for little girls to learn how to style hair and apply cosmetics.  I acquired it at an auction long ago, already 'beautified' by some girly somewhere.  I took it to school, where it hung out until it became 'zombified' as part of last years 'Zombies ate my Homework' project.  After the project was over, it ventured all over the school hiding in strange places, happily startling everyone...but then I decided that it's time has come, and it is ready for a new life.  (Don't worry- the zombie head has been replaced with the werewolf hand- sporting a French Manicure-) 

In my hoard of pinterest images I have one of a similar head that was placed in a garden, hollowed out and used as a planter with 'chia-pet' type hair.  I like the idea, but decided to do it my way- and transform the head into a faux metal/stone 'sculpture' that will rest in the yarden and be covered with vines.  I cut off the long hair (matted it was, and a mixture of original blonde, zombie green and black) and spray painted the whole thing black.  The face itself had been altered during the zombie project- wax was added, parts filed off, scratches all over- which is great because it makes the whole effect more believably weathered. I have been working over it with layers of paint- black, white, bronze- and powdered sepia worked into the wax.  The crockpot is on and I am using more wax to build or seal areas, playing, playing until I get it the way I want to.  Then the whole thing will be clear coated (not shiny, satin- so it has that dull luster of old metal/stone).  When I find the right place in the yarden, I will train vines (we have vines a-plenty) to climb up over it's head creating the hair.  It will probably still be a bit creepy, but hopefully in a good way-

Other things I want to do is rehang the teacup tree (took them down to wash them and they never made it back up), bedazzle the frog prince, do something with the ponies and the bell jars.  We already have a bottle tree, vine-covered chair, pink flamingo (slightly faded), cauldron of flowers and 'magic tower'- the strange metal triangle tower with the giant blue glass globe on top. I want our yarden to be weird and wonderful, one of those places that create curiosity.  I want to just have some fun~

Brown, Tulip, Eyedropper, Honesty

Honesty.  Digitally painted sketchbook drawing.

Brown, tulip, eyedropper, honesty.  Those are the words that Dr. B had me remember as part of one of my tests yesterday- and I remembered them well- even though (tulip/honesty) merged into teacup in visualization, and eyedropper is the least important.  This morning I drew them out in my sketchbook- I waited all night to see if I could still remember them- of course I could- and then played around painting it in photoshop.  It is *not* by far a worthy digital painting, but it was fun- I have a few different versions- I knew I wanted some sort of brown/blue/red tone to it, and a rather hazy look.  So it works for that.  The tulip is there, nodding and brown, the drops lead to the eye in the teacup, which is inscribed with the word 'honesty'.

The colors remind me of a faded Persian rug, and I like the flowing, tangled, feminine lines.

Dr. B is a new doctor for me- referred to for baseline testing, a neuropsychologist.  The testing builds a profile of how my brain functions, what my thought patterns are, memory, problem solving, application of knowledge, information structures plus the regular psych stuff.  Yesterday was just the initial meeting and test- the follow up big block of testing will be in early March.  After testing I went back to school, did an amazing amount of physical work in four hours (cleaning, sorting, painting tables, etc.), then went to see Dr. Mike-  right now we are working on a barter system to help with medical costs, so I have an art commission to fill in exchange for  a series of appointments- which is wonderful!

The general consensus from all three doctors (they are working together on this-) is that a) something is wrong  b). it is not just 'drama' or psychosomatic c). they are looking for a physical cause- my blood work, CT scan and sleep study are all fair normal (except a bit of restless legs for sleeping)...but my brain is *not* functioning correctly at the moment.  Main suspect right now is possible exposure to a substance- we are looking at bromide toxicity as a possible solution as well as other heavy metals.  These would most likely be linked to our well water, which I used to consume by the gallon- because it had a funky taste I would dump some crystal light or unsweetened lemon koolaid in it- it was my primary source of liquid.  So next step is getting the water tested and me tested, and see what comes up.   The county charges for the heavy metal water test- we are doing that- but I found out that I can get a base water test free at PetSmart.  Who would of thought?

Anyway, back to tulips and teacups and testing.  I do question the validity of the test I took yesterday- both the long written part and the other shorter parts, like the memory thing.  I did tell the Dr. that the memory words are easy for me, because they are visual.  I could immediately construct an image of them which I successfully remembered.  If you gave me a string of numbers, or equations, or a mix of math and words I don't think I would of done as well at all.  Or a series of  nonvisual words- without a image anchor to build a story around the result might of been different.  But as it is, a brown tulip dripping into a teacup is fair easy- and then just add the eye and 'honest'- done deal.  The questions on the test were to be answered false, slightly true, medium true or very true.  Of course I wanted to add conditions and explanations to some of the answers- one question asked if writer x was our favorite poet- nope, and I had to write in 'Ted Hughes' even though he is only my favorite poet part of the time.  Along with Dylan Thomas and Edna St. Vincent Millay......Thing is, most behavior is conditional.  And I wonder how many people actually state the truth on the test?  I know that there is a truth-control, which is in part why there are so many questions, that they are so repetitive (reworded but the same) and that there are control questions to see if you are paying attention.  Still, I am curious as to what it will show and what will happen next.

In the meantime, I am counseled to scale way back on activities- to drop the museum project though I don't know how to bow out without looking like/ becoming a failure- to let go of some of the responsibility of life.  Thing is though, letting go makes me anxious- I worry that if I don't keep the ducks in a row they will all wander off and get hit by cars.  But I need to try- it is so hard. I feel that I worked really hard to get to the point that I am in my career and life, and while there is very little material or recognized pay off, some of the things I have done do make a difference.... at the same time, I wonder why I work so hard and care so much when it seems that very few people notice or care.  This is *not* 'poor-meing', though it may sound like it, this is just a reflection on what is valued, what I need, and how sometimes I feel unheard (with a few exceptions).  

What do I need?  Time to be responsible for *myself* first- to go back to the basics and rediscover the things I love.  Honesty to look at what I like to do, what I want to do, what I do, and what I want to change- and be truthful about wants, needs and have the cojones to say no.  Order and balance- it might be boring but it helps me keep on track and feel safe- the same routine everyday for a while with no distractions or surprises (I can NEVER SPELL THE WORD SURPRISE.  I am going to get it tattooed on my hand because it annoys me incredibly. not really).  I need to tell myself that I am not giving up, that I am being honest and....giving up.  A few things.   And I need to get over that bit of guilt.  

In the meanwhile, brown tulips drip tea into a cup, open eyes see clearly.