Texas!

WOOHOO!  We are Texas bound in June!  I'm so excited- we missed the trip last year, and I always put off confirming things until I am *certain* they are going to happen.  Last night Tommy Podlucky (yes, I still call him that!) called Charles to talk the plan out- Tom is wise in knowing that phones and some plans are best left to the 'men folks'.  They talked and figured things out and we pulled out the calendar and set the dates.  My last day of school is the 13th., Father's day is the 17th, so leaving for Texas on the 18th- spending the night in Vicksburg probably- on to Mother's for the 19th.  We will be with Mother for the 20th, 21st- drive down to Sue's the evening of the 22 (I think that's the plan- or the next Saturday morning- depends), spend a night or so at Deer Ridge, then to Shreveport with Tom and Sue on the 24th, start the drive home on the 25th.  (Which may or may not be straight through- it depends on what we want to do!).  So that gives us 3 nights at Mother's, 2 nights at Sue's, and 2 on the road.  Not bad- hopefully not to much of 'us' for anyone (including ourselves!) and everything will work out for the best.  We are flexible though- so let us know if that doesn't suit!  (Here I go, assuming that everyone reads the blog- but that's ok- it's how I let you know what is up with us for really real).

I am incredibly excited- did I mention that a billion times already?  I haven't seen Mother for over a year, and I can't wait to talk to her, just hang out and drink coffee, get some advice and listen to stories- show her some of the things I have been making, let Charles pamper her a bit and charm all the ladies with his voice and amazing beard.  I can't wait to go out to Deer Ridge and see Sue and Tom, the lovely Miss Daisy, wander around their woods (I love the sticks.  I know we have sticks here, but I *really* like the sticks in Texas.  I'm so odd)...and maybe even a quick trip to the flat place where they find fossils.  (I'll bring my magic pink boots just in case we get to go- I know about snakes and Texas).  And the road trip- traveling with the manz- he sings with the radio, insists on driving (though I will take over when I can- I *love* to drive and I never get to drive on trips anymore...he or Melissa does all the driving...I want a turn! Not complaining you guys, just share the fun-).   We may stop at some curious places, or not, or whatever happens happens.  I know there is a Wattaburger in my future for sure...and hopefully a new rose bush from Tyler- other curiosities along the way.  Lots of photos.  Going to Shreveport where the manz will play games- in cowboy hat and boots- and hopefully win a fortune or two (the fun is guaranteed). I'll play the penny slots for awhile, then sit back and draw unless they make me stop (some casinos care, some don't).  Have a margarita or two. People watch, which is one of my favorite things.  Hang out with Sister Sue, soak in a hotel tub- or hot tub if they have one- with a new book- oh, the joys that await!

I love packing- I always over do it, I get dissatisfied with what I have and get sudden strange cravings for clothes I would normally never wear (one trip, long ago, it was capri's.  Some people look great in them- not me....but I insisted.  Another trip it was getting my hair done, which I did, and that was nice- expensive, but nice.  This year I have summer dresses, new rainbows... I should like a pair of fake-plain-Tom's to decorate, but can do without...but I have a serious hankering for a new camera.  We will see).  I always take art stuff with illusions of making things- I get so excited about the possibilities that I forget that I only have time for my sketchbook and camera on the road.  Still and all- you never know when you might need some paint, or duct tape, or *all* the colored pencils- and the sharpener- and erasers- see how it goes?  And I want to take something for everyone, but I am never quite sure what.  Books galore for Mother, of course, and art (somehow she never gets tired of my art), something for Sue and Tom- not sure what- inspiration?  And the kids- maybe we will get to see the twins and Troy if that works out- lots to do, time is short, make the most of it.

Here at home, I will be out of school- will still have to do my online classes on the road, but regular school is overish- Paul agreed to give Charles the time off, Grendel will come out to take care of the house and doggs/Turrello... he will have to drive the Saturn to work, but it will be fixed by then and all will be well and in good hands.   Ducks in a row, ducks in a row- get everything set, I'm ready to GO!

Springfest

Springfest- one of the longest days in the school 'art year' but well worth it.  This is one corner of our booth- the Morning Glory side is mine, the other side has the kids stuff (Art @ Trask).  Beside us were the band boosters selling lemonade and a local cafe with cupcakes.  Across was the stage, with performances of clogging, dancing, Pender High's band, the elementary county chorus, various local performers.  Across the square was the huge art tent with the county art show (which took hours to set up, but looked great)... I had lots of my kids turn out to help, and -with the exception of one or two slackers- they worked really hard.  Crystal and Juan the hardest of all- moving displays, painting faces, selling work, setting it all up and breaking it all down without hardly a break.  The kids made enough cash to pump up the art budget, and I sold a painting (the roosters) and gave away a painting (the pig- to Donna and Jerry for their house-warming, welcome back to Burgaw, just-because-you-like-it reasons...They looked at it and both said 'Wilbur', which is what I've always thought, and I swear the pig wriggled a bit.  It found it's home- that is how art is supposed to happen- it clicks and *bam* soul connection- it's yours.)

Truth be told, I struggle with art shows. I always end up with a deep insecurity that it takes me awhile to recover from, and is compensated for by excessive overwork, job-searching, and a weird embarrassment- wondering why I didn't learn the 'right way'.  Now, it's not what you think- I love the setting up, the bustling, the hard work all day, talking to people, making art in front of people, even getting up on stage and doing introductions, awards, and all those things.  I am enthusiastic and fun- I play with the kids, network in the community and I love seeing my former students as adults with families of their own.  (and a surprising number of them have gone on to work in the arts as professionals, or found other ways to follow their dreams).  And I *know* that I am a good teacher, a good leader, a good artist- BUT....

insecurity.  My students artwork is not as good as that from the other high schools, or even some of the middle schools.  I could blame it on materials or time, class sizes or what-have-you, but truth be told (apparently it is a day for truth-telling, this day of the eclipse) it's me.  I don't know how to teach them to produce technically excellent art.  When I teach I focus on all the things I find important- content, meaning, context, how everything fits together.  My goal is to get them to *think*- creatively, intellectually- and communicate that vision....and the thinking part, more or less, works.  What I get lazy about, and thus they are lazy about, is technique....and I don't know where I missed that part of learning how to teach.  I really don't have a clue if it's because I get bored, or lazy, or distracted, or never liked learning technique myself that is the reason- perhaps all of those.  And it carries over into my own art, because I am much more interested in the meaning of what I make- all of my technical skills simply come from constantly making  things, drawing, painting...just doing.  So when my students art is next to the other high schools, it doesn't look as good.  Plain and simple.  And that makes me insecure, and embarrassed, and feeling like I don't know what I am doing and the kids would be much better off with another teacher. And I wonder if I need to go down to the middle or elementary level, but I know I have no patience for middle-school ages and it's been so long since I've been with the little ones.... and I love the high school kids even though they make me nuts.  It's my age group.  Then I think of moving on to administration (yuck. I hate telling people what to do) or curriculum (not bad, just hard to find a job) or something else...and I just want to cry.

It's odd because I do love my kids and my job, I love teaching and I know that I am good at it.  I just hate the competition (even though it isn't *technically* a competition with ribbons etc, the works next to each other creates a competition...and I dislike that. That's also why I hate playing games, sports, selling things- if I'm not going to win, I'm not going to do it, and I have this core belief that I'm not going to win, not going to be picked for the team (and will drop the ball if I am, or be hit by it), not worth a decent price.  I don't have those doubts with my ability to think, or plan, or organize- just compete.  My gut reaction to this is to simply avoid it.  I don't play games, or sports.  I don't enter art shows and dislike having student shows.  I don't sell my work, promote it to galleries, place a high price- I usually avoid pricing it all together because I am simply astonished that anyone would want it at all.  Yet I have sold work, I have been in art shows .... but the whole thing just throws me off step- and I end up being insecure about a host of things.  I look old, my hair sucks (the style- I'm all forehead, and it needs dyed... but we cannot afford things like haircuts and professional dye...) I need to loose weight (I look sloppy-in-body and I don't like that.  When I look big and curvy that is awesome, but big-n-sloppy is not...and it's not the clothing, it's the sag- bleah).  I end up a bit of a wreck all over, and that is definitely why I don't like art shows.  (and so I know what I will be talking about to Dr. Mike this week~ )

Don't worry- this is just a 'low spot' (as Mother used to say).  I'll get my balance back, step up, do my job continue to work hard.  For awhile I will worry about it and try to reinvent some things- it might even work- but probably revert back to my normal style of teaching... it can't be that bad because the kids *do* learn things, we have a good relationship, and some of them go on to use it in their lives-  and I also need to remember the perspective that I'm just a high school art teacher and this shouldn't be that big of a deal.  Get over it, and if I want to do something about the way I look, I just need to do it.  Go back on the diet, move more, figure out a way to come to terms with my hair and my face and my perception of myself.  (and I know there is a correlation between the art-show self-esteem issue and the punishment of dieting and the impulse to physically recreate myself....that if I change the way I look, other things will change.  I should of learned this lesson by now, but instead I repeat the pattern over and over).

So today, I'm not sure what I'm going to do but I have to get over this spot.  I will do some work, clean a bit- I'm supposed to take George to Grendel's in Wilmington, but I have this inertia...I don't really want to go anywhere right now...I need a time out.

Not a painting- a work of art.

This is my apron- one of them.  Several years old, bought at a thrift store for 3 dollars, worn at school, at home, out painting with our roadshow- everywhere.  It has become an artwork unto itself- the layers of paint so thick that parts of it are waterproof and quite stiff.  The pant is layered on- somewhere on there is a hand-sewn butterfly- and the pocket (also sewn on) is torn at the top and knotted.  There is a ring for holding my keys, folding scissors and safety pins- the pocket itself starts out the day with a black pen, my cell phone, purple scissors, hall passes and needles and somehow always ends up with those things all magically replaced with crumbs, kleenexs, and- if I'm luck- a candy wrapper.  I go through more needles and black pens than anyone I know... they simply vanish.  My cell phone just likes to play games and escapes to hide under various heaps of stuff until I am forced to have some student call it and we all play hide-and-seek.  Work and play, makes my day!

Today is Springfest- one of the longest days of all- I am up having a coffee and writing before I gather the last few things, shower, unpack the car- wake up Mr. Owens so that he can repack the car plus tables, chairs, tent and my artwork (Brutus is already full of student artwork- the manz claims that everything can fit, and I just have to trust him- I am very good at packing, but he is pure magic).  I have to be in Burgaw at 7am to get my minions organized, set up our booth, the school's booth *and* the county art show.  Mr. Owens is on call and has to work today- had to last night as well- so I am on my own (except for minions, who may or may not show up, and once there, may or may not wander off randomly).  Hopefully it won't rain today- it has rained all week, so it should of gotten it's rain out.... and hopefully we will make some much needed cash- wish us well.

Last night was the first night of our spring production- a musical version of Alice in Wonderland- and the kids and LC did a good job.  I wish I had had time to have designed the sets- even if it was just painting the backdrops- the only issue with the play was the lack of sets.  Props, yes- but no framing sets.  I know I don't have time to do yet another thing- but I do have ideas on ideas and visions...and it would of been fun. They did well though- the choreography and singing were excellent, the acting and movement and costumes wonderful- and for a first performance it was well done.  Cudos to LC and the kids!

And now it is time to get this show on the road, pull and pack and repack and unpack and set up then do it all again.  With luck and love it will all work out and the day will be blessed.

Well, Hello Stranger!

Students never cease to amaze me.  These past two weeks I have been spoiled- handmade cards, unexpected chores and minty m&ms, homemade mole', fresh picked strawberries~ and then yesterday Donna brought me a lizard.  Apparently their lizard had babies, or they acquired lizard babies, or what ever happened happened and they have a slight excess of bearded dragons- and I was the beneficiary of one- Hooray!  He is a baby- only a few weeks old- and will be between 1 and 2 feet when fully grown.  Mrs. Chase- the new bio teacher- checked him out (we don't actually know if it is a 'him' or not, but for various reasons that I will explain later, I think it is- at least in my mind), pronounced him healthy and fit (she has reptile pets), let us have temporary use of an aquarium and gave me a run-down on the care and feeding of a dragon.

Now, I have had lizards before. And snakes, salamanders, crawfish, frogs, toads, assorted rodents, dogs, cats, birds, horses, rabbits, turtles and tortoises, crabs, and everything else imaginable- I love animals, Grendel loves animals, and we had a zoo full the whole time he was growing up.  Now Mr. Owens and I are down to Max and Ursula, and, of course, Turello who runs the entire house with a velvet paw.  And there are our 'outside' animal friends- Leo and family, the skink mafia, visiting Turkeys and Guineas, butterflies everywhere.  We've never had this type of lizard though- before it was the local anoles, a few water dragons- mostly tropical/semi aquatic lizards.  George here is a desert lizard- sand, light, heat are his friends, he is rough and coppery gold, and has a different personality from the aloof water dragons and lazy Leos.

Bearded Dragons are social creatures- they take an interest in what is going on around them, enjoy being handled, tend to be active and with strong personalities.  Yesterday when he was in my office, when ever one of my art girls came in to look at him (oddly enough, it was always the *girls* that wanted to see/play with the lizard...and no I didn't let them touch him- no stress for my new baby- the *boys* were curious but not enough to get close.)  anyway, when the girls came in he would do this head-bobbing thing, like he was checking them out.  Then sometimes he would raise a hand- like he was waving them over, or giving a thumbs up.  Definitely a cad....and I decided that he looks a bit like George Clooney, you know, that smirk- and thus it was decided that he is a he and his name is George.

The manz is not as fond of George as I am.  Likes him firmly in his cage in the other room, worries about the  *cat* getting over excited and interested in him (which is probably true as Turrello has taken up hunting and is quite good at catching Mice and Leos) and causing chaos trying to get to him.  So after various phone calls and a brief scare (Grendel's phone was dead, he wasn't at work, not returning texts or facebook posts- we had been watching 48hrs and I was sure he had been murdered....but no, phone was just charging and all is well) it has been decided that George will move in with Grendel.  George's social needs will be fulfilled- he will get the attention and petting- and Grendel will have a cool pet once again- one that is apartment friendly but a whole lot more interesting than fish. George will hang with us until Sunday- then it's off to the big city with unlimited babes for the checking out and late nights up with the guys.  Fun, Fun, Fun!

Mystery Plant

This plant is driving me nuts- I don't know what it is and I can't seem to find it on the internet or in books.  It is fast growing, spreads rapidly, not sure how large it gets but it is already up to low-shrub size.  Beautiful purple flowers that bloom rarely (one cluster is all- out of many many plants) they only last a few days.  There are green 'spikes' by the leaves, and red spines on the stem- they are prickly.  I don't know if it is poison or not, keeper or not, anything...except it is everywhere.

In the yarden we have a lot of plants that are everywhere- it is botanical deathmatch between the vines- wisteria, Virginia creeper, English Ivy, Jessamine, something else I can't identify, honeysuckle, raspberries and wild roses.  So far the wisteria is the hands-down winner, with jessamine a strong challenger.  English Ivy rules the back where it is shady- and around the mailbox.  Of course, yesterday I added morninglory and moonflower to the contenders- hopefully they will catch on quick.  I love vines- and thus the appropriate name of our home: Tanglewood.

Any hints on this plant-please let me know!  I am not writing much today because I spent all morning trying to figure it out again.... could spend all day, but no such luck- must go on to school.

In the Hollows, along the Highways

Just an odd bit of photo collage this morning, made from images from an abandoned house I explored when Melissa and I went to Grifton.  It was a tiny house beside the road- old enough that it had no indoor plumbing and electricity was jury-wired in from the road.  Overgrown by trees and pivet, but still fairly sound, empty rooms with a few left-behinds: a curtain with a tiny flowered print, some broken furniture, a few religious pictures (angel, advertisement for a revival), lots of dust.  But stories- lots of stories in the corners, every room painted carefully a different color- pale yellow, pink, aqua green. Neat shelves into the walls, at one time lined with canned goods- the stains from rings on the wood.  It feels like a woman's house- yet women, I think, are not ones to walk away leaving left-behinds unless something happens.  There wasn't anything bad-feeling there, so I think she probably just faded away and no one bothered with the left overs.

I love the old houses, the tumbledowns- which our house will someday be- their stories and spirits.  I love exploring them, always respectful of whatever might be living there, calling out first.  Houses have souls, you know, that's what makes them homes- and some of the ones I explore the souls still linger, some are but husks falling into the green.  Very few of them are sad, most just restful- rarely is there 'badness' about which feels like stress, tension, air all tight before the lightening.  Those places are mostly commercial places- gas stations, motels, once a school.  I go there once and then no more, but to some of my favorite houses I return year after year- sometimes they are still there, sometimes plowed under, sometimes just gone.  There are so many of them along the roads here, and I wonder why-

Today is Monday, a promise of rain, the fourth week before the end of school.  Today I have to teach lessons, help Placido with his senior project installation (a Day of the Dead altar), submit proposals, get my endless parade of ducks in a row.  Lots to do, but I am quiet inside- a weekend of rest and stories, making small things, strawberries soaked in cinnamon whiskey and slightly frozen (highly recommended.  The manz invents the most lovely treats for me), Mother's day and speaking with my Mother and my son.  Sitting on the porch to finish a book, mucking about the garden, folding the laundry- all the simple domestics that turn the wheel.

Today is Monday, and even if it is raining, I am going to plant the Morning Glory and Moon Flower seeds that I have soaking- for they are best planted on Mondays, the day of the Moon.  I love their vines and their colors, the way they twist and turn and open and close to mark the day.  I am friends with this day- it holds lots of promise and a steadiness of being- it will be a good one, I think.

Mother's Day

Mother's day~ a day of different things for everyone, some being church and dinner and breakfast in bed.  Gifts of flowers or chocolates, a day off of chores, feet up, pampering, sticky kisses from little kids, phone calls from grown ones.  Sometimes it is a day of mourning, remembering or regret- things left unsaid, undone, things that should of happened long ago and didn't.  My mother's day is a mixture- it is early still, but I am anticipating breakfast when the manz begins to stir (I slept through dinner last night again.  I am sleeping so much that he calls me 'sleeping beauty'- and while dreams are amazing, life is as well and I don't want to miss it)... and a phone call from boy (he had called the other day to ask if I wanted to come into the city today- answer is yes and no- I miss him, but I want to be home today. City on Wednesday when I see Dr. Mike perhaps)...I will call my Mother...I love her and will see her soon, end of June, but wish that could be today.  We will call Charles Mother, who is wonderful and kind (I still don't know what to call her. 'Carrie' is to informal for me, Mrs. Owens is *me* and way to formal, Mother/ mama is for my mother, and I was never fond of the term 'mom' even though the kids at school call me that.  I need to think of something though, because she has been so good to me- and Grendel-), and I will remind Grendel (not because I have to- he knows- but because that is what a Mother does, remind-) to call his grandma in SC and Dorothy in Vancouver. I am wishing well all the wonderful mothers in our family- my sisters, Casey/Sam/Frannie who are raising the tangle of the next generation- I love seeing the kids, how they are growing and changing, how much fun it is every step of the way.  Soon enough we will be seeing Morgan in a prom dress (Prom Queen, no doubt) and the boys all turning into young men with cars and dreams and hopes of their own.  (Morgan has those things as well, of course, but she is destined to be the 'Queen', no doubt.)  And a wish to all my students who are mothers, and Melissa whose Gabe is leaving childhood for the rocky road of maturation.  I am also thinking of my grandmothers- who were different- I wish in particular that I had spent more time or attention with Granny Wrye (despite the dramatics) because she was *interesting*.  Mom mom was a different story altogether, but she is still an ancestor and worth respect for that. And there are others, of course, but this is a day for mothers- and I am blessed to be one.

My Mother is amazing, and was the greatest influence on me- shaped me the most of anyone.  Not just in the ways of civilized behavior and all the expected things that mothers do, but in unexpected ways that made me who I am, and I am grateful- even if I didn't seem so at the time (sorry about that!  It's what kids do- rebel- but still and all, sorry for all the stress and worry).  The greatest gifts she gave me are the ability to think, to observe, to create, to imagine and dream.  To be brave and carry on, no matter what.

Long ago and far away she taught me to read, and made sure always that we made it to the store-front library in Westwood.  Huge stacks of books- Madeline was a favorite- I can still remember how they smelled, how the cellophane wrapping on them crinkled. Trips to the laundry there as well- I could always find stray coins- because she always called me 'lucky' I know I am.  Girl scouts (I wasn't very good at it, but we went.  I made a rather horrid thing out of smelly soap, paper doilies and pins with beads on them one year for Mother's day) followed by a trip to the Dairy Queen- vanilla cone for her, I would get the slushy drink.  Walks all around Headacher, Morro Bay, Caycous, and the woods and fields everywhere in between- I learned the names of the birds, the flowers, what to eat and what not to, how to see the small things.  How to entertain myself with my imagination, working together to create a massive doll house (with furniture) out of a cardboard box- furniture that was 'modern' 60-70's out of spray caps, butter tubs and whatever we could find.  She taught me that reading encyclopedias could be fun (and my huge store of trivia is rooted there- sick days from school were spent in bed with encyclopedias and the vaporizer), how to read a map and plot a course, how to sew and embroider and fuse different colors/textures/patterns into a lovely whole.

My Mother was not afraid.  She drove cross country by herself (with Granny Wrye and child me- she should be sainted for completing those trips without abandoning one or the other or both of us along the way.  Neither of us were easy passengers). Handled emergencies well, was not afraid to go out on her own when she need to.  She let me explore so that I would grow up unafraid- at the beach, in the city, on our travels, at the museum.  I have never been afraid to go anywhere or do anything on my own- I know that all things can be handled.  And no, my mother is not perfect.  No one ever is- but there is value added through imperfections and we all turned out much better than expected- I hope my child turns out half so well.

So Thank-you Mother for everything- all the tears and the wisdom, the scoldings (mostly well deserved) and the lessons, the art and knowledge and adventure and beauty that was mine growing up.  I have a wonderful life, and I thank-you for it daily.