I am honored to be virtual friends with Angela Stockman — there are a few I’ve met along the way I truly consider kindred spirits, and she is right up there. Her vision is clear and enchanting to me: I see it, and how it can be incorporated into instructional moments. It’s my goal this summer to figure out how to bring these practices, and many of my past magical practices, back to my classroom. I mean, for goodness sake: look at this one!
Words are elusive this morning; not sure why. Perhaps it is the constant sawing, hammering, and shouts across rooftops from the construction of million-dollar homes across the street from us, interrupting any flow or traction. (And I am grateful for the skilled workers who are here, and not working in the exhausting, hostile heat of states like Texas or Florida.)
What I’m trying to say is complicated: I am an artist from the beginning (one of my favorite memories of my dad is him buying me art supplies when I was about four). As an artist, I see and do teaching a little differently, and I thought I was an oddball. But there are other creative educators out there who understand that content areas are not bound by imaginary, limiting constraints. I’ve been working on my own teaching/writing/art book for about four years; “working on” is kind of a lie– thinking about, trying, struggling, procrastinating, and sabotaging myself is more accurate. So, this blog serves as my scrapbook.
One of the insights/narratives I share with students is how to start writing: when I was getting my BFA, one of the best and most effective ways to get over blank-canvas fear was to mix up a batch of black paint with solvents and wash the freshly gessoed canvas. Just make a mark. No fear. Get started. And the benefit of the dark wash on the canvas is all colors, layers, and light become richer, more interesting, and
An artist my husband discovered is Jessica Brill: we love her simple and powerful lines, subject matter, and color. Her work evokes David Hockney and Edward Hopper, and yet it’s all her own. An artist for GenXers like us. Poolside discouragement, Holiday Inn mediocrity, and an overwhelming sense of loneliness and isolation. And maybe she captures what I feel as a teacher sometimes: that those connections I long for are forever out of reach. I will never be the martyred ELA teacher spending hours with my red pen grading essays. I learned early on about single-point rubrics, playlists, and the work of the National Writing Project.
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I do, however, spend an inordinate of time creating, writing (this blog), and thinking. Not sure where it’s getting me. (Just a mood I have right now– it’ll pass.)
Oh, wait: I’m here.