Typography from Ronnie Bruce on Vimeo.

When all you have left to say is, "I'm sorry."

Finding myself at Thanksgiving and receiving the pleasure of at least two extra full days with which I am able to fill with the ever-so weighty list of things to accomplish, I finally got around to looking over the finished assignments from my students at the high school and the 100 accompanying evaluations filled out regarding my teaching at the school. I made it through approximately 60 of the pages filled with a a smattering of both scathing and kind remarks. I sat there at the kitchen table, head in my hands, stunned, although not overly surprised. Although I did not know quite how strongly some of the students felt, their responses to my solicitation for opinion put many of the unspoken feelings about my experience there into words, as difficult as they are to read. Reading what the students had to say really brought me back to the deep sense of failure and lostness I felt there.

I've debated about being so bold as to reveal my poor reviews here for you to see, but over the last day or so, I find the inability to escape pain-inducing recollections of what I read just yesterday and I feel the need to sort out the emotions and find a footing upon which to walk forward. Honestly, I am still trying to figure out what happened to me there, where I got off track, how I seem to have so badly missed the point.

Reading over the selection of evaluations left me with the sense that somehow I had missed really seeing the students I was supposed to be teaching. I felt overwhelmed. I felt lost. I felt insecure. and I felt threatened and abused by many of the students. I was writing a reflection on one of my lessons from the high school the other day and realized the answer to the question: "What went wrong," to be somehow and somewhere answered in the fact that I let the students walk all over me. One of the more compassionate evaluations actually read, "You shouldn't let students walk all over you. You are the authority in the class." Sage advice from a student that I don't think I know how to apply.

Maybe if I'd had more time there, I could have continued to grow. I do not know. I found myself sitting there yesterday, wishing that I could crawl down into the heater vents where I could hear the mice scratching around. I sat there, thinking, "I wish I could just go back there and say 'I am so sorry.' "

My heart breaks at the thought that I hurt some students, that I left them feeling unimportant, inadequate, or disrespected. I wish I could have found space to just see them before everything else.

I am remembering thoughts shared by experienced teachers about the fact that they learned everything about writing lessons and their content in school, but were not taught the most important thing-- relationships. And thinking of that gives me a bit of hope that perhaps I am not as doomed as I feel, that although the learning curve is steep, that perhaps there is hope for me yet. That somehow I will touch more students with love and compassion than those that leave my classroom feeling hurt. And I find myself hoping and longing that there is forgiveness out there somewhere for me. Maybe even if it only comes from me.

In the midst of all of this, I find myself searching for some sort of footing in terms of classification of blame, causes, and responses. I keep thinking of this phrase that I heard over and over in jr. high and high school: You must rise to the occassion. I've been thinking of this often, about how regardless of the reasons, regardless of what I am up against, regardless of how close student teaching is to being a real teacher, I have to rise to the occassion. I can only meet the challenges with integrity and courage, doing my best to do what I know to be the best.

Much of this semester, especially the first part of this journey, left me with a sense of flail-- I imagine myself treading water. Unfortunately, the stack of evaluations sitting at home on my desk are reminders of the students that I had there in the water with me.

Thier evaluations have shown me again that the essential thing in teaching has little to do with what I teach and much to do with how I am treating, seeing, and loving the group of students I have been placed around. The difficulty, I think, with being a student teacher and being a young teacher, is making the transition between doing the thing you've been taught to be able to do in school and seeing the real people you have chosen to serve with this training and knowledge.

When I was at the school, my mentor teacher tried to tell me that the choices I make about how I actually teach, the learning experience I set up for my students has a reciprocal relationship with the personal connections I have with students. My instructional strategies should be rooted in compassion and a personal and genuine connection with the students for which that instruction is prepared. How I use the time I have in my classroom does actually communicate how I feel about students-- it isn't just about what I say.

Respect is a funny thing. As a young teacher, I am still tyring to navigate my personal identity. I am navigating what it means to be an authority and to gain proper respect. Something I do remember thinking a lot about during my first placement was the issue of posturing. I worked through the tendency to put on a "teacher face," and grew a great deal in learning how to relax and be personal in the classroom. I think I did come a long way, but it is going to take a while to really learn it. I think I get caught up in feeling like I need to figure out what the model of teacher-persona is and then put on that costume, become the expected image. I am starting to see that the difference is in simply seeing my role as a person who is placed in the classroom to serve the young people that enter its door. My role is a person who is able to love my class as a whole and therefore make decisions based not on how I feel about individual students or how they treat me, but simply, manage this little world as a whole, making sure each student is held to the same standard of work, respect, and self-pride. How that works itself out beyond theory is a difficult question, but at least it is an idea with which to work.

As painful as it is to read about my mistakes and failures from the very hands of those I have failed, there is also something about it that drives me to try again. It poses a challenge for growth that is essential for a vibrant life. It is an opportunity to learn how to serve students better in the future because I now can see a little more what really hurts them and what really matters most. Working through the difficulties and messes that define relationships are the very catalysts that teach us to love better, even though it is frightening. Even if the thought of it still makes me sick to my stomache.

So what am I to do with all of this? The truth is that I am fresh, I am green, and I have been trusted with an unbelieveable number of young people even though the expectation for my failure and mistakes is quite high. The truth is that I am broken. I am humbled. I am repentant and I hope that someday all of those kids who saw my evaluations as an opportunity to unleash the eight weeks of pain and frustration I put them through will find it in thier hearts to forgive me. I hope that they will someday find grace for failures and shortcomings that they did not seem to recieve from me.

There is something refreshing and exhiliarting in the prospect of a second chance at loving people. There is something I find so deeply touching in the idea that even when I've so impossibly wronged someone, there is always a chance tomorrow to make it right. There is always a chance to start again, to stop and remember how much better things are when I choose compassion before my own sense of obligation or responsiblity. It is that painful sense of growth that comes from pruning.

And I am happy to know that there is hope for forgiveness and grace for my failures, even when I feel like I belong somewhere near the bottom of the foodchain.

Art

COMBO a collaborative animation by Blu and David Ellis (2 times loop)

Something that really gets me excited about using technology in the classroom is the ability to show students so many creative and artful videos like this one. Today I began a lesson with fifth graders on actual and implied movement and was able to share with them the video on Kinetic Sculpture that I posted here a while back. It was so exciting to be able to see them get so excited over this great video. I simply asked them to tell me a few things that they observed in the video and the complexity of their thoughts and level of interest and intrigue blew me away.

This was a really good day for me. The lessons that I taught today were all "day 2"s for my original lessons and it was really exciting to see how much the kids had learned based both on their memories from last week and also in their continued engagement in the assignments. Today was also the first day that the students started using "real clay," which is a opportunity that makes them feel very grown up and artisticallly "official," if you will. There is something instantly gratifying in seeing students genuinely enjoying and doing well at an activity that you have poured so much of yourself into preparing. And it is exciting to see my own ideas being given new life through the creative genius of children. Somehow, the more I work with children, the more I am amazed at what they come up with. Just watching 24 six-year old decorate tiles shaped like houses today reminded me of how much creative potential lies in one person and how unique each person's vision is.

I think as I teach more, I seeing that perhaps the thing that I enjoy most about teaching art is that I get to look at great art all day long. I just adore walking around the classroom and seeing what the students come up with in response to a single prompt or idea. I love looking at so many different kinds of art, and what could be better than looking at over 100 pieces of brand new art being created each day? It is truly a wonderful thing.

Sunday afternoon physics

It is getting on towards Sunday afternoon and I find myself contemplating heat, calories, and projectile motion. I've been sitting at a new coffee shop, looking out at the faces of Boulder walking down the street outside the large plate-glass window for nearly three hours and am rummaging around inside my body and brain for the energy and perseverance to keep going. I need an activity for fifth graders tomorrow that will help them understand the concept of movement in a work of art. I have a large stack of lesson plans, essays, rubrics, assessment tables, and analysis to do and I am looking outside wondering if it would be okay for me to get up and take a break, to go to Bliss, one of my favorite stores and look at all the creative, artistic gifts and things that they lay out for me to admire.

I am on the downward slope of this journey. The acceleration is increasing exponentially each day and I am coming to that point where many of those loose pieces are falling into place. Things are making more sense and my desire to do well is becoming more and more pervasive. I am beginning to see how I can, in this strange season, take charge of the sort of teacher I want to be and move towards it.

A month or so ago, I remember sitting at my kitchen table on a Sunday much like this one, feeling angry about the seven hours spent pouring over books and completing the tedium that is the "Art Content Lesson Plan Format." I wanted to be outside, making myself a well-rounded person, engaging in the rest that gives me the right to claim my own humanity. The next few days brought a well of tears and a reminder to be myself, to be personal, to move my teaching out of my head, out of Microsoft Word formatting, into my arms, my voice, my stories. And although this was an important step, I was still missing the balance between intentional planning and hard and fast commitment to something that is still all-consuming.

Something about my new placement at the elementary level, maybe my mid-term evaluation, maybe a simple progression towards a more "grown up" perspective, I am more resigned to putting in the work that it takes to be a really great teacher. A lot of days earlier in this semester left me feeling far from the teacher I want to be for reasons I am still sorting out. But I feel now that I've had more time to organize my thoughts, more of a space that gives me a conceptual grounding of what I am about, that I can set down these goals and follow the path towards realizing them.

I want to be a great teacher. I want students to come away with deep thoughts, substantial changes in their view of learning and life. I want to be intentional about the activity that takes place in my classroom and I want students to walk away with a grasp of the concepts about art and the world that make me see my life as a journey towards the center of the earth. And I want to do the work today that will make me that teacher.

It is easy for me to complain, to say "it isn't fair," or get upseet that the constructs of our over-busy society are doing damage to my personal life. I can say that college is perpetuating a society that is overworked and overly committed to success as a result of production. And although these things may be true at the end of the day, I am being called to a race at this moment that demands everything. This week, my cooperating teacher reminded me that this trial, this last step is a process that is intended to put me through the paces so that when the greater challenges come and I am outside this support system, I will have the muscles to lift it all. And yes, I will have a great deal to learn for the duration of my life as a teacher, but the intention here is truly to benefit the students under my care. And although, mid-stream, it is easy to say that those in authority over me lack perspective or they have failed to see me, I have to remember that thier goals may be different, their perspective is coming from a place other than mine and I must trust that thier motives are pure and right.

It is this strange place between submission and self-realization. It is this moment in which I am being told, "you must be a teacher like this," and it is also a landscape in which I must daily ask myself, "What kind of teacher do I ultimately want to be and what am I willing to submit to in orde to get there?"

Some parts of me wish that perhaps I could go back to the beginning, knowing what I know now, and try things again with more of the end in mind. I wish I had set out first with this question of "how do I want to grow as a teacher" and go back in the environment of support and mentorship that I had earlier in the semester and try it again. But I think this is the thing that time, learning, and perspective provides-- the ability to move forward knowing that the opportunity is still mine. Perhaps this is the beauty of living the life of a teacher-- there are always opportunities to build upon our own learning. There is never an expectation of mastery, but always an expectation of openness to the voids that must be filled in our understanding of what it means to teach.

And so, this afternoon, as the sun streams is across my dusty glasses and I long to get up and leave, I will persevere yet. I will finish this race set before me and work on remembering that the reward of seeing myself as a teacher who lives well will be greater than the momentary rewards of a free weekend of afternoon of less meaningful fulfillment.

I will finish this race and I will continue to run it well.

Child Artists

Here is a great article written by George Szekely, who was also the keynote speaker at the CAEA Conference this year. He has a great way of honoring the innate power of a child's creativity and his words keep us from the belief that children are lesser contributors to our world.

MILTON GLASER DRAWS & LECTURES from C. Coy on Vimeo.

Seriously...

This week has been quite a doosey. After a weekend full of angst over how much work I am expected to do over the weekend, a panic attack over my online class that is quickly getting out of control, and a Sunday composed of a collection of busy work, laundry, and facebook updates displaying an array of curse-words, I entered the week thinking about how to get a ridiculously long lesson plan ready to hand to my university supervisor before she watched me make art look like torture for 24 high school students and then meet me in Fort Colins to sit through a 45 minute talk on student law that I probably could have conducted on my own via the wonders of google before driving the hour and a half back home, during which I realized that Ihad no idea what I wouldbe doing in class on Wednesday. Come Wednesday then, my mentor teacher ventured to ask what I might possibly do to make my teaching the least bit motivating and engaging. After a full planning period of me balling my eyes out in the photo lab, we came to the conclusion that the answer to all of this is simply to stop.

So many people have been telling me that student teaching is essentially a load of bullshit that one must muddle through in order to get to the stage in teaching life that you actually begin to learn how to do it. The terms, "jumping through hoops," "busy work," and "the worst part of life" have begun to ring with sparking clarity these past few weeks for me. i've done my fair share of thinking and reflecting on which end of the meaningful living to wasting time on the "stuff you have to do" spectrum I ought to reside during this period of my life and the truth is that in all integrity, the running far from the wasteful crap area of the scale is what I would prefer. I have a strong aversion to giving into the pressure of waiting to do meaningful things in life until that glorious later. For many years of my young life, I've been dreaming of the day that I'll be a real teacher, dreaming of the day that I get to hang out with kids all day and make art, and now that I am in the place in my life where that dream is so so close to a reality, it is frustrating that the very institution that sets out to give people this dream is the very thing keeping me from the very stuff that makes one consider dreaming such a wonderful thing.

One way or the other, I still have choices to make for my own life, my own actions, my own attitude, and I've found it neccesary to revisit the all-to familiar lessons that have been making up the stuff of my life for a while now.

Being the self-reflective person that I am, I know that when I get to a place of feeling overly-pressured about how I spend my time and energies, I become crippled by the all-too- great sense of seriousness of these actions. The artistic growing up that I went through under the care of the painting department at CSU brought me through the fire of figuring out how seriously I should take myself as a member of said artistic community. By the end of mty time as an art student, I realized that, given my perceptibilty of internalizing too many things, I'd been influenced into living my life based on an assumption that ones' worth in the grand scheme is determined by a ability to find worth in the "almighty they" of the art community. Worth is defined by the percent of ones' soul sold to overworking the self. I somehow got tricked into thinking that the more posturing, the less heartfelt connection and enjoyment to life would result in happiness and success in life as an artist.

And I am realizing that perhaps that thinking has also somehow got muddled up with my approach to teaching. The conversation I found myself engaged in with my mentor teacher between streams of tears brought me to the realization that my students cannot see me as a person who cares for them as people when I am caught up in a system that is asking me to give more value to aligned objectives and assessment methods than the authenticity of a life well lived. And perhaps in my left-brained, performance-based approach to life is allowing me to get carried away with things that are not meant to carry us away. But either way, I am finding myself in a battle of determing how to be true to my own values rather than my perceptions of other people's expectations. And maybe a part of the apprehension is an all-too poignant awareness of the role these people and their expectations play in my ability to get out into the real world and live this life of a teacher totally apart from them. I am afraid that if I begin to live it now, I'll not be allowed to fully embrace the autonomy of "doing it my way" later.

So, this morning, stting at a new favorite haunt, breathing in the wonderful fall air, I wrote down a few good thoughts that I want to live by as I complete this course:

1. Although objectives, assessments, methods, and rubrics are important in thier own right, they are an underlying structure and should be second only to the heart of really what is going on when we come together as people in a classroom.

2. How can I teach my students about living from the heart if I can't find the space to be able to teach from mine?

3. My mentor teacher told me something very good on wednesday. She said, "Heidi, you know all of this stuff-- you know everything about teaching and you know everything about yourself, but you can't seem to figure out how to live it out." Her assertion of this reminded me of the freedom that we do have in simply living out who we really are. As as person who is still a student under the authority of instructors with a role of making all the things I still lack clear to me, it has become easy for me to search for an external "fix" to "doing things right." I rarely find the space to practice just living out what I already am. When I began studying art education four and half years ago, I approached it with the goal of becomming a person full of the things that a teacher has inside of them so that teaching is as simple as being myself. And now, here I am, teaching, but forgetting this idea. Or perhaps not believing that I yet have it in me to do it because I am still being asked to write it out in page after page. I'm still being asked to intellectualize rather than simply do it and do it well.

so, here's to fleshing it out. I've decided this week to stop going through the motions of intellectualizing everything and simply making it my one and only priority to just DO IT. And for the first two days of my student teaching exeprience, I am having a blast!

Rembrandt Autobiography

I'm working on developing a unit on shading, texture and value, and came across this nice video on Rembrandt.

Yesterday marked the end of my fifth week at Silver Creek. I am more than half done with my secondary placement and big chunks of my brain are hoping that elementary will be less pressure, more fun. This not to say that high school is not fun and that I am not enjoying it, but I miss the easy acceptance of my elementary kids from BASE Camp. High School management seems to revolve around attitudes, boredom, and legal issues and it is exhausting trying to sort all that out on top of simply learning how to instruct.

Last week I came to a turning point. Perhaps it s simply in part due to my getting the hang of things or starting to teach my own lessons. But I came to this place of realizing how much of my activity centered around all that I had to do. Rather than thinking about what it takes to really get kids hooked, what I need to do to get them interested and learning, I was thinking about how to meet all of the requirements of students teaching. I have been so focused and stressed about filling out paperwork and completing lesson plans with everything worded and measurable that the thought of connecting with my students felt like one more task, one more thing that my overloaded brain needed to work out.

But over the last week, I've been rearranging my priorities. I've decided that if yesterday was the last day that I had to teach, the last day I had to be in contact with these kids, I would want to make sure that they had a meaningful experience with art. The question of whether or not I had every objective lined out clearly was not high on my list of priorities.

Now, I realize that I am still in the place where I am being tested and that I am being asked to submit to the authority charged with the task of awarding me my lisence. And I realize that they are always under the responsibility to submit to the requirements of the state and that these are the tasks that I must complete to move to the next step in my practice as a teacher. But I do not want to waste the time that I have in contact with thess young people still under my care, despite all of the other things that I must do. I am reminded that if I seek the things that are true and right and best, all the rest, the nitty gritty, will come together as well.

As the week came to an end,even though my sleep level was well below acceptable levels most days, I began to notice more and more kids greeting me in the hallways, excited to see me, wanting to share thier lives with me. I am seeing those relationships begin to grow and flourish. As I observe the ways that I interact with the students, I see that my conversations are less connected to my stress level or an assumed sense of responsibility and more connected with a desire to really be personal and genuine. I want them to know me-- and I learning to be more comfortable with that line between teacher and friend becoming less fragile. This not to say that I am throwing that sense of professionalism out the window, but allowing myself to be a person to them rather than working on maintinaing a staunch position as AUTHORITY. And this is the place where I am finding myself as a teacher. And I am beginning to see in myself the qualities that I admire the most in the teachers that have inspired me to teach.

two weeks

Second friday of the school year. I've officially made it through two weeks of student teaching. I am more tired than I thought I would be. Teaching is often harder than I think it is going to be. There is always too much to say and too little memory. There are always moments that you realize there was something you should have said before all 36 students started talking again. And there is always that point when you realize that you really just need to slow down, be calm, and put more faith in yourself. There are so many opportunities to let your intution take over and go with whatever happens. And there have been numerous class periods that make me hope that someday I will be good, confident, personable, timed, and clear.

I just took over an hour to make and eat my dinner and now I sit in a clean house, dishes done, contemplating what I want to do now. Eleven and a half hours ago, I got in my car and drove through the country to my first day of school-- my first day as a teacher.

Today was a really good day. After meeting with my mentor teacher last week in the midst of the chaos of moving, I was feeling more overwhelmed than ever. Today, however, after getting a few nights of good sleep, knowing there were plenty of groceries at home, and having most of my belongings settled in, I felt ready to take on this crazy life of teaching. Over the weekend, I discovered the one good thrift store in town and scored a nice assortment of professional attire for my new appointment for a price even a student teacher can afford.

Although I didn't get as many lesson plans written today as I hoped I would, I went through the process of figuring out budgets, calculating numbers of students, and ordering supplies. I got the quick and dirty run down on doctoring photocopies to make handouts from books without written directions, but great illustrations. And I had a lot of great conversations with my mentor teacher about how to plan engaging lessons and what to do with kids who finish too early.

Something I've been thinking a lot about is the issue of time management and balance in my life. Even though many student teachers have told me that this thing takes over your life, that it is the most difficult thing of all, and that student teaching is an all-consuming monster, I've really been looking forward to this time as a chance to determine my own balance of time. My way of life up to this point has been dictated by the expectation that 12-14 hour days most days of the week are normal and appropriate. I feel a little like I might need to go through detox to change this standard in my life. I want to change it because I really find that having time to make a delicious dinner for myself and allowing myself time to enjoy it is so good for my soul. I feel better about my relationships when I have time (and energy) to do dishes and keep things clean. And I consider a restful sleep to be something worth fighting for.

For all of these reasons, I feel lucky to have the model that I do in my mentor teacher. I asked her how late she stays at school after the bell rings at 2:15 and expected her to say 4:30 or 5. "I try not to stay much later than 3:30 or 4," she said, and added, "I try really hard to keep work at school and home and home." Other teachers, she went on to say, allow school to take over their entire lives and end up staying until 5 or 6-- and they really are teachers all of the time. "This is a job," she advised me, "that can easily consume your entire life."

So here I am, at 6:29, enjoying freedom from guilt about what I need to be doing for school. I have time to think about what I might choose to do with myself now that I have a few personal moments. Part of me feels like I may be forgetting something, but another part of me tells me that this very act of forgetting is just what my soul needs.

This morning at our staff meeting, the principle reminded us all of a very important thought:

"You cannot take any better care of others than you do yourself."

So here is to a great semester ahead full of learning and adventure!

Gordon Hopkins

I love the simplicity of Gordon Hopkin's work. I often find that I simply get too carried away with my own paintings and envy artists who are able to leave well enough alone with a minimum of colors and shapes in one painting. Maybe I'll work on that. Perhaps this sort of discipline will be seen in my "later works." In the meantime, enjoy some of these and take a look at the artist's website for more beauties.

Julene Harrison

I was admiring and getting inspired by Julene Harrison's paper art, but then couldn't help but laugh out loud when I saw this one.

prepared?

As I get knee deep and face to face with the reality that in just a few weeks I'll be student teaching, I am coming to the realization that learning to teach is something that an infinite number of years in school will never fully accomplish. As I scramble to figure out what the heck I am going to do, I rack my brain, searching for the meaningful things I gleaned from the numerous hours spent in class that will come to my rescue now. And for some reason, the only thing I can come up with is "motivation."

I have been reading some great books, "From Ordinary to Extraordinary," by Ken Vieth, "The New Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain," by Betty Edwards, and "How to Be an Explorer of the World" by Keri Smith as well as this fabulous article my mentor teacher directed me towards. As I read through these ideas about how to get kids creative and how to present problems in the art classroom, I realize that these sort of philosophies and modes of teaching are wonderful and meaninful and great for our kids-- and they are things that I as a teacher can only come to master through experience. As I've been emersing my nerdy little mind in these books, I've wondered how much of these models were covered in my few semesters within the School of Education and the Art Department. Why didn't they give us more training in setting up a lesson this way? I think to myself. I don't know. Maybe they did and I didn't hear because my sensory functions were still recovering from the late night before in the painting studio. Maybe I just need a few more years of "doing" before I really understand.

Regardless of the ability of a classroom to teach me everything I need to know abou the nitty gritty of teaching, I've come to many a good thought. One struggle I've been facing in writing my units and lesson plans for the coming semester has been in the area of organization-- how do I put all of these ideas swirling around down on paper in such a way that my advisors, the state, and administration will understand what is going on in my classroom and in such a way that I know what I am supposed to be doing with all of these young faces looking attentively in my direction.

So, based on the advice of my mentor teacher, these great texts, and what I already know about lesson planning, I came up with this little sequence to help me frame my lessons in a way more conducive to introducing art as a "problem to be solved."

Class:
Lesson:

Problem to be addressed:





Resources Available:
-- Instructional Support


-- Materials


Learning Goals:

--Skills


--Concepts


Assessment:


Sequence/Procedures:





An aspect of Vieth's book that I'm really enjoying is the presentation of art process as problem solving, such as "Given two weeks, how can you transform an ordinary door knob into a work of art?" I think an approach that focuses more on an innovative aim is a great way of getting kids away from seeing art class as a place for people born with the talent of realistic rendering to a place where everyone gets to uncover thier own creative ideas. Art is no longer about creating a marketable product, but engaging in a creative process. Which is really what it is about, isn't it?

I learned the value/concept of pursuing a visual problem a few semesters back through the completion of the final for my figure painting class. The whole time, I struggled through the class, bored and uninterested in painting the figure. Throughout the semester, our instructor was showing us examples of artwork, saying, "look how this artist focuses on pattern, how this artist makes the figures look bony or weighty or ghostly." I didn't get it until the end-- I realized my painting was never going to be a success until I solidified my aim. What was I working towards? The obvious answer was "self-portrait"-- that was the assingment. But as an artist, I realized I have to dig deeper than that. What vocabulary was I hoping to expand? What was the problem I wanted to solve?

I think this idea of "visual problem solving" rarely makes its way into the k-12 classroom. Art is about going in and finishing projects that look pretty. But I think we need to trust our students with more advanced thinking-- and ultimately this is the type of thinking that is going to get them hooked on a level below the surface. Art is not about external experiences as much as it is about the struggle through the process of solving a problem. Making a goal and working night and day, sketch after sketch until our fingers bleed. This is what good artists want-- to move forward, they enjoy the struggle of finding it out. And we need to be training a generation of students who understand the joy found in this process.

In five days, I'll be loading everything I've decided to keep from the garage sale pile and stacking it up in the basement of my new house. Three more mornings of 4th grade complaints and Theater club, three more afternoons of the aggressively researching third graders. Ten days of travel and reunions with old friends. seven days to unpack it all, finish lesson plans, and then eight weeks of high school. eight weeks of elementary school and then to the open unknown.

I've wondered a lot this summer about whether or not I can compare the challenges of B.A.S.E. Camp to those of teaching full time. I've wondered if much of the stress of this summer has come from the disorganization of staffing, scheduling, planning, and administration. I've wondered if the difficulty of the kids has come from the season, the heat, the activities, the culture of camp, or the population of kids in constant need of all-day care, love, and attention while their parents are at work earning minimum wage. And I've wondered if it is me.

One of the greatest frustrations this summer has been the process of sorting out how strict to be. How tight do I need my limits to be and where do I allow those limits to flex? How do I be firm without being rigid or tyrannical? Where is the line between creating a fun, relaxed atmosphere and allowing children to overstep their boundaries? What happens if students never get to the point where I can trust them with the freedom to take part in certain experiences that I think would be great for them? How much do I need to expand my trust in my students? Where is the line between being in control and being controlling? Am I being too involved in solving problems that students would learn from solving on their own? Is there a place where a student is simply beyond my reach? When is a consequence less effective than simply ignoring a behavior? When are boundaries too controlling and when do they truly create a structure in which a child is brought up in a positive way?

This set of questions seems to plague me daily as I wonder if I will be able to answer them in such a way that allows me to be a great teacher. One of my passions and subsequent fears in teaching is the dangerous potential we have as educators to provide either positive or negative experiences for children in the process of discipline and structure.

One of the first lessons I realized I need to learn this summer was surrounding the issue of consistency and action. I used to think I was pretty firm until I met this group of kids who are constantly challenging me. One of the first things I realized is that I was much too nice. Not being sure about what my expectations are and what is okay and what is not okay makes it hard to stand my ground when kids decide to argue and reason. Although it is still surely a process, I am learning that simply maintaining consistency and following through on my word is so important, even when I haven't quite figured out how important the particular issue is in the grand scheme. For me, teaching kids to trust my words is always at the heart of the issue because it is only in this trust that I am able to provide good things for them in the end. Now that we find ourselves at the end of the summer, I see some students have begun to trust my word and I've been able to spend more time on a personal level with them rather than immersed in argument. Others, however, are still a daily battle and I realize that it may take more time than we have together for them to get to the place where they learn that those in authority are placed there to help them move forward in life rather than simply keeping them from having fun. And all I can do is hope and trust that I have made some small progress that will be continued by their next teacher, mentor, and parents.

Something I often notice when working with the kids at B.A.S.E. Camp is how much power I have. Mostly, I observe this when playing a sport or board game-- how easy it would be for me to overpower my eight-year-old opponent. I find myself teetering on the all-important temperament of how intensely I play, how hard I throw, how much I need to win in such a way that challenges each child without taking advantage of their delicate stage of development. It always amazes me when I sit down and think about how obviously small their experience is and how much I have to come down from my level of age, development, and education to get on thier level.

The other day, I was talking to one of our kids about our Classroom Lead, the person who makes all major decisions for our class group and takes care of most administrative aspects of our particular group of kids. Usually, the class leads wear polo shirts rather than the plain blue t-shirts the rest of the staff wear daily. On this day, however, our lead was only wearing a T-shirt and the child on the swing next to mine observed this, wondering "Does he usually wear that shirt?" I told her no, explaining the wardrobe requirements of a Classroom Lead and explaining what that title meant. "So that means that he get's to do whatever he wants, right?" my dear little friend asked.

I was struck by her question as it reveals a lot about how many children, and people in general, view authority. Power generally means that one is able to use said power in any way they see fit, which one might typically expect to be in a selfish manner. When I was in high school, my mom lent me a book by Max Depree on Leadership, in which I came across the following quote:

"To be leader means having the unique opportunity to serve those that allow the leader to lead."

An elementary view of power and authority views leadership as an ultimate freedom, access to opportunity, and rights to treat others and things as they please. This idea is, in a basic way, accurate, but it misses an essential characteristic of such a role. The ultimate role of a leader requires one to use this ultimate freedom, access to opportunity, and rights to treatment in such a way that serves the good of the whole of the group. Unlike my young friend's assumption that our Class Lead can do anything he wants in a self-serving way, the truth is that much of his job requires a self-sacrifice for the 25-30 children and staff under his care. To be in power in a classroom or otherwise requires the insight into the needs of every person placed under his or her care and the skills to act upon it in such a way that no person is harmed.

That being said, I've had to consider much of my choices in terms of rules, expectations, and consequences in light of the group as a whole. I often find myself asking students to stop doing things that are not inherently wrong, but because if the whole group were to enter into the action, it would be impossible to accomplish the good we as staff have in mind for them. Teaching and management require me daily to think in a more communal, less individualistic way, opening my eyes to the needs and good of many people, including my fellow staff members and the other children under their care.

This summer has certainly been a thought provoking, challenging experience. Working with these kids has provided an ample supply of questions to fuel years of research ahead. It has often been difficult not to be too hard on myself this summer as I come home after a rough morning and wonder what went so terribly wrong. I am excited, however, to take what I've learned this summer and apply it to the next step of my journey as I step, once again, into a wholly different dynamic at a new school, with new kids, in a totally new situation.

a hot summer ends with winds of change

"How is your summer going?" I've been getting this question a lot lately and the best thing I can think of to say is "fast." It seems like for all the days I counted down towards the end of the season a year ago, I am making up for it now by wondering how I will get everything done before this one turns into fall. Ten days from now, I'll be finishing my last day with B.A.S.E Camp. Eleven days from now, I'll be moving my stuff into my new apartment in Boulder. In twelve days, I'll be leaving with my friend to Kentucky. A few days after that, I'll be catching a flight to Boise for a wedding. In twenty one days, I'll be arriving back in Fort Collins, where my car will be waiting for me to drive down to Boulder and unpack my boxes. In one month minus two days, I'll be walking into Silver Creek High School, dressed professionally, and begin student teaching.

But before any of this, though, so much of summer has happened. Between learning all kinds of lessons about relating to kids and classroom management, I've been preparing my psyche for student teaching and I've been thinking about the personal goals involved in the complete change in lifestyle that lies ahead for me. I've been thinking about student teaching in light of the habits that I want to develop in terms of personal balance when I enter a life of full time teaching.

Throughout my coursework, in both my studio practice and teacher education, the issue of balancing your life as an artist and a teacher has been constantly on the table. And throughout said coursework, I was thinking to myself, "I don't really care about maintaining a personal artistic practice-- I want to teach more than I want to take the risk of putting myself out there as an artist." I think, truly, I'd been telling myself that I'll never be a "real" artist anyway, but a "real" teacher, now that I could forsee.

But something funny has happened to me-- in the last six months or so, my whole view of myself as an artist has totally changed. I feel as though I've been swept up by a current that I cannot control and yet it is carrying me to wonderful places. A lot of people say that even in the summer, they don't get the artowork done that they want to do. And yet, somehow, in then midst of my crazy schedule and all I've set out to do this summer, I've completed almost six paintings. I've almost done as much this summer as I did during the Spring Semester for my four credit class. There has been a shift in me that can't help but paint. Without any pursuit on my own, I've ended up showing my work for the entirety of June and July and have been so encouraged by those who see it. I've sold two paintings and have a few more interested offers.

As for my work with kids this summer, I feel like I've learned a lot, but many days I hope that teaching doesn't require this constant dilligence to provide consequences. Some days, I feel like the full extent of my day is expended on warnings and consequences that there is no room left for fun or relationships. It is hard.

What to do with one big group of arguers...

The last month or so has been quite the ride. Finished my last education class, painted my last graded painting, lost my job, got half the job back, ended up working a few full-time weeks with a bunch of exuberant and testing kids. Learned a lot about myself. Got a nasty illness. Ordered a book called "Setting Limits in the Classroom," and started following through and giving out a lot more consequences and started having a lot more fun.

Even though I am looking down the barrel of July and a move to Boulder in four or five weeks, it feels like summer has just started. The time feels long, but the distance feels short. Although I've worked a lot with kids over the last year or two, this has been one of my first real experience with managing an entire classroom of kids for an entire day. I've been challenged-- to say the least-- in more than a few ways.

Being in a class with a majority of boys, a majority of which are continually testing the limits, has taught me a lot about myself, my managment style and the importance of consistency and follow through. I feel like most of my headspace is occupied by questions about how to get these kids to simply do what I say. Figuring out how to keep a simple "pick up the trash around you" or "stop whapping your neighbor with that towel" from turning into an epic battle. Luckily, I have the privalege of being on a team of people all working towards the goal, but teaching children to follow my directions is still an individual project always at work.

Working with these kids this summer has been a big reminder of how broken people are and how much it takes to gain the trust of many children who have already spent the 8 or 9 years of thier short lives in environments that teach them that the words of others are not neccessarily safe. It has challenged me to remain continually cognizant of each word I say, how I say it, and the actions that follow my words.

These last few weeks, each day has been a reminder about how much I love working with kids. The thing I love about teaching is that there is such a strong connection to the creative process in it. you must be innovative in the way that you use your words, actions, and classtime to form these young people into the beauties they were made to be. You are part of creating so many lives-- and yet that seems so beyond your own honor. Who picked me for this co-creation, anyway?

So, I am learning how to refine my words, my actions, my expectations. The way that I love each of these kids changes as I learn more about what they really need and how I can provide that. Even this week as I've really tightened up my management in terms of word and action, rather than feeling like a tyrant, I've felt more free to really focus on building relationships and having fun with these kids. And I've even recieved a few compliments about how great of a teacher I am.

Who Does She Think She Is?

I came across the website for this film that looks like a great way of getting the story out there of many women artists. Take a look at some of the videos of the artists featured-- I love hearing artists talk about what they make art about and how they got there because it always helps me figure out where my own art is going and how to talk about it.

www.whodoesshethinksheis.net.

I came across the website for this film that looks like a great way of getting the story out there of many women artists. Take a look at some of the videos of the artists featured-- I love hearing artists talk about what they make art about and how they got there because it always helps me figure out where my own art is going and how to talk about it.

www.whodoesshethinksheis.net.

A few new creative things

 
 
 
 


Now that school is out and a have five minutes of freedom before summer camp starts, I am filling the day with as many creative things as possible. I've set up my studio in the garage and have begun the greiving process involved in leaving this wonderful house. I am working on selling a painting from the show a few weeks ago and hope to get a couple more done before the end of next week to start posting on etsy.

but TODAY-- oh today! After looking at the sparse selection of new machines available in this area for as close to $300 as possible, I found a nice little Kenmore sewing machine in craigslist for a whopping $35! According to a local servicer with now monetary involvement in my decision, Kenmore's are made almost exactly the same as a Janome and other basic sewing machines. And so, although it is no bernina, I am happy to have a small collection of metal peices that will happily aid me in all the sewing endeavors I've been dying to undertake for God-only-knows how long.

Also in honor of my school-work-lesss freedom, I discovered a fabulous new thrift store bursting with vintage delcious wonder. Leaving the school cafeteria this morning after work, the bins of silverware inspired me to create this whimsical little windchimes. After a little conflct with a bottle of gorilla glue , I reign victorious and am enjoying the chimes of spoons and other kitchen acrutaments as I write. One will go with my co-worker to camp on Calalina Island and one will stay right outside my door. hhhmmm. I love love love summer!

Hey Mom and Dad--

This might be another idea for that *small* graduation gift.



I think I am turning into a small child a bit more each day...

Look what I found instead of studying...

Difference is An Artist's Game

Here is another wonderful video. This was made by an 8th grader for an English project entitled "This I Beleive..." and is a great example of what students can do when challenged with wonderful opportunities to be creative.


Difference is an Artist's Game - Funny blooper videos are here

What defines art?

Man! I am a blogging fiend today! Anyhow, I just came across this video while doing research for my sculpture class and had to share it here. This would be a great video to include in a lesson discussing presentation or conceptual art. check it out. you will laugh, I promise.


Subway Art Gallery Opening - For more amazing video clips, click here

Human Development and Teaching Abstact Thinking

As I work through the experiences provided by the CSU School of Education and the Professional Development School while simultaneously completing the university coursework for my content and bachelor's degree in Fine Arts, I seem to be increasingly challenged by the level of abstract thinking and complex understanding I can expect from my school-age students. I am sitting here this morning captivated by the research I'm doing for my paper in a class on Art of Mexico in the Age of Conquest, a 400 level group study in Art History and simultaneously reveling in the fact that I've learned that I can do just about anything simply by being able to read at a high level of comprehension (welcome to my nerdy brain.) While reading about the genius of Felipe Guaman Poma de Ayala and his ability to play the game of his Spanish captors in Peru while actually outsmarting them, my teacher self is going through the dialogue of how to get students to the point of being able to (and wanting to) perform the same analysis I am doing while reading a book entitled "Art and Architecture in Viceregal Latin America, 1521-1821" because I can't help but marvel at my own power. It is a funny thing to get to the end of four years in college and realize all the skills that you've gained. And it is sometimes a scary thing to realize that you have chosen to embark on a lifetime of inviting other people into the same endeavor without knowing exactly what steps have brought you to the point of intelligence you have now reached.

And yet that is what I've chosen. And it is the thing that I am most excited about doing, this career of teaching people how to use a bundle of nerves that are beyond visual understanding because it is housed sometime inside the head.

As I've worked with third and fourth graders at the Lab School for Creative learning, struggled with Drawing I students at LHS, and daily battle with the behavioral frustrations of children who spend a great deal too many hours at school every day, I am learning at increasing intervals that there are certain capacities of children at various ages and as a teacher it is my job to figure out what layer of the essential foundations of learning need to be laid for each child who enters my classroom or charge. Parts of me want to present to them all the thinking processes that my 22-year-old brain has gone through in deciphering complex information about the Spanish Conquest from hundreds of pages of tiny symbols, but then I remember recieving a photocopy of my own 8th grade English teacher's scrawled notes from pages of literature and having absolutely no experience with which to apply interest to such an example. I wasn't ready for the complexity of that thinking yet.

And so I find as I get deeper into the field of education, the more I want to know about human development and how the brain learns. I feel myself entering the "trendy zone" with this statement as brain research is all the rage in Educational circles these days, but I think such research is becoming more prevalent for good reason. Being the education nerd that I am, I want kids to understand their own brain capacity and educational potential in a blink, but the personal side of my spirit wants to remember that kids are still kids and brain development takes a lifetime.

So-- what is the point of this diatribe? I need to remember as an educator that learning takes time and we are still restricted to the development of the brain over time, regardless of the vastly growing pool of information that is brought so close to home through the wonder of technology. I have a growing passion for literacy and the thinking strategies that accompany it, but I want to increase my understanding of the art that is developing this skill in effective ways appropriate to the development of each student. I want to grow in patience and understanding in my role of adding one building block at a time and trusting that with the right foundations, students will continue to grow.

In the meantime, I think I'm going to make it my goal this summer to do some more research on human development and studies of the brain. who knows where that may lead, hm?

"Making Marks" May 1, FCMOCA

 

 

 

 

Come enjoy the class show for my Senior Painting capstone. It has been a long school year of carving out what sort of painting I am going to be, but I'm feeling quite proud of the worlk I've done this semester.

Details:

May 1, 6-9 p.m.
Fort Collins Museum of Contemporary Art, third floor

Design by the Book

I was really excited about this project from Design*Sponge. This semester through my own art study as well as my work with the Drawing I students at LHS, I've gotten really excited about using technology and different media to expose students to all different examples of what art can be and how it can be used. I think exposing students to historical examples of art is really important, but something that really gets me inspired is the the huge world of possibilities for creativity presented by artists who are working today in spaces ranging from their basement while their two-year-old naps to fancy studios in New York. The tie that seems to bind this world of creative artists together is the simple capability of posting videos and images to the internet for me to consume straight from my igoogle homepage. All I have to do is open my browser and suddenly I am transported from the pressing need to do research on Mexico in the Age of Conquest, resources for which take a great deal of searching to find, to hours and hours of exploration of what an artist just created 30 minutes ago. Anyway, to return from my bunny-trail, examples like "Design by the Book," open up all sorts of ideas about how students can be invited to enter the art world through community engagement like this one. I'd love to try and incorporate at least one community-oriented art project or assignement to my classes each semester. I could be as simple as partnering with the local library to create the same sort of collaborative project as a class and this would easily lead to an combined project with a videography or graphics class.

An issue I am really passionate about is getting students who may not think they have any artistic place in the world to see what art can be for them. A great class to offer for students who might not be interested in the arts as a career but would still be open to developing artistic attitudes, as we say in the art ed world, would be a class that focuses on community engagement and the arts. The class would focus more on broad artistic possibilities, aesthetics, and multi-media creative expression.

Anyway, enjoy this video. I hope it inspires you as much as it did me to see what sorts of things these artists create. If you are interested in the series, there are a number of episodes already posted on youtube!

Lisa Hannigan

This is a great video that combines music and fine arts. This would be a great video to share with a class to talk about negative space or mixed media. Maybe even a discussion about the link between content and delivery. And--- this is one of my favorite songs and just a really cool video. Enjoy!

I Don't Know from ATO Records on Vimeo.

Henrique Oliveira

Another facinating artist is Henrique Oliveira. This mornining in my sculpture class, we watched the Art 21 video on Janine Antoni, who also does a number of interesting things with her body and personal identity and our role in society, life, and the world. I was mostly facinated, however, by her work entitled "Moore," which is a very long, handmade rope made from materials reclaimed from the lives of her friends and family, including a red dress belonging to her father's mother, electrical cords, and flowered leis. Oliveria's work is so interesting to me because of the source of his material-- he takes wood from the streets of his home, all discarded and old, and creates these beautiful works that the viewer experiences in totally new ways. Over the last year or so, I've grown increasingly interested in the craft of quilting in its connection between the finished artwork, this sort of isolated thing of beauty, and the layers of tradition and meaning behind the use of the fabrics both before and after the quilt is made. Quilts are literally bound to the very fabric of life for those who make and use them. I think anyone who has ever made, owned, or used a quilt knows this strange personal power found in these blankets.

Anyway, I am developing an ever-greater facilnation with artworks derived from materials collected from that which has been used up. There is something beautiful and deep and unspeakable, I think, in these materials that have been whittled and worn by the continual steps of everyday life.

On a slightly unrelated note, I've been doing some soul searching in terms of where I want to go with my own art. I ran into an art friend from school a week or two ago and we were talking about the Undergrad show on campus-- which I did not enter this year. I decided not to give the show too much thought because I felt, given my history of rejection from on-campus juried shows, the likelihood of me getting in was not large enoughto make it worth the effort of putting anything in. My friend's response to this attitude fell somewhere along the lines of calling me super lame, and got me to thinking more about why this is actually my attitude. So I set out to think it through a bit more.

I won't go into al lthe details of my thought process now because I don't have enought time to write all that, but after a conversation with an artist I met earlier this week, I've been thinking more about being the sort of artist that is an artist for reasons other than money. The conversation earlier this week made me realize that not al artist show thier work nor should there be a great deal of stressput into it. If I'm more interested in art as a means towards the end of creative thinking and personal expression, it doesn't have to be as cut and dry as I try to make it.

Furthermore, I'm excited to see my work going in an interesting and captivating direction. I'm really happy about a lot of the work that I've done this semester. I am feeling like a great deal of my work has become a lot more personal while also incorporating the technical skills I've been working so hard to aquire. I've set some goals for myself concerning letting other people see my work more as well as thinking more about what kind of artist I want to be.

It's All White

There is nothing like a snow day the week after Spring Break.  It is nearing the end of quite a full week and after a tedious drive to and from Loveland this morning, I've enjoyed a relaxing afternoon trying my hand at cinnamon rolls from scratch, making a lot of dirty dishes, as well as spending some time working on my altered book.  I was hoping to get in some extra hours of painting today as our Senior Show at FCMOCA is quickly approaching and we're all feeling a little behind.  

As of this morning, my student teaching placements are set for Silver Creek High School in Longmont and Mary Blair Elementary School in Loveland.  Although i'm a bit aprehensive about the commute between the schools and the decisions  that come with where my life might be moving next.  But I am also excited about what is on the horizon.  

It has been a great experience working with the drawing I students at LHS and on Monday, I gave a bit of a lecture on all the types of perspective and how to begin a one-point persepective drawing from observation.  We are guiding the students through making their own "Zines" outlining the steps, which I hope they will be able to refer to as they begin their drawings.  It has been very exciting and challenging to work with the classroom teacher in solving various problems and trying new things with the students and curriculum.  Although it sometimes feel like starting and stopping given the craziness of meshing my college schedule with the schedule of the high school, I feel like I'm being challenged to really figure out the logistics of getting my ideas fleshed out in actual lessons and activities.  I am finding that my idealistic thoughts on teaching take on a whole new life when applied to 20-30 students.  I hope too that once I get in a place where I can build more consistent relationships with the students I am working with, it will be easier for me to plan lessons that really connect to them.
I am really excited about the continuuation of this lesson.  If the weather clears tomorrow and I am able to make it down to Loveland for the fourth day this week, I'll be leading the students through an activity exploring Urban Sketchers to give them some ideas for thier sketchbook assignment.  I've been thinking a lot this week about finding more creative ways of presenting information that gets students really involved in their learning rather than having them just sit and listen to me talk.  I thought the Zine would be more interactive, but the students were not as engaged as I hoped they would be.  I'm hoping a Jigsaw type activity with the urban sketchers will get them more involved, but we'll see.

 Anyway, on this snowy day, I was also able to get some painting in, although I'm feeling a little ADD.  I'm finding too in my own artwork, that I need to be careful about overworking things.  I think sometimes I just nee to stop on things.  I've also been really inspired by the artist I posted about yesterday.  Just taking a few minutes' look at her work has given me quite a few ideas about the types of things I want to explore in my own work.

 
 
 
 

Is Spring Break really over?

Since they are predicting a foot of snow tomorrow and I'm suddenly burried in work, I thought it would be nice to remember Spring Break and post the photos I promised from our trip down south.  I picked out a couple that I thought might be my favorite today.  Enjoy! 
 
 
 

Jane Filer

My newest favorite artist discovery is Jane Filer. As soon as I saw one of her paintings on the "Artist of the Day" Wiget on my iGoogle, I knew I needed to get better aquainted with this woman's work. Her whimsical landscapes and scenes of houses and pets and memories are a great deal simliar to what I am about in my own paintings. I hope to adopt some of her imagination. Take a look at these beauties and I would encourage you to visit her website and take a little look. I have a feeling it might greatly improve your day.

Has Spring Sprung?

It is spring break and surprisingly divergent from most spring breaks, it is actually incredibly and mind-bogglingly warm! This morning around 1 found Angelia rolling in to the spot in front of our house after an IncRedIBle few days exploring the near entirety of Southwestern Colorado. We found this adorable little place in Ouray, where we stayed in the Imogene Cabin, which was complete with tiny bathroom, kitchenette, screened porch, and loft with some matching tiny windows. It was so refreshing to wake up to the rush of a little creek right outside our windows. After an amazing drive through Gunnison and the like, we hung out at the Ouray Hot Springs before crashing into bed.

Tuesday morning brought the realization that the stove in our kitchenette lacked the ability to light and therefore no boiled eggs to fuel our day, but that did little to quell our excitement as we embarked on another (smaller) journey down south to take in the splendor of Mesa Verde National Park (nearly loosing our breath at the fabulous San Juans and mesas we drove through along the way). Although I've seen a thousand pictures of this incredible ancient city, I am proud to have a vast collection of my own images-- we even got to climb down into an underground kiva and it was a wonderous experience to put our hands in the same places that Anasazi put their hands to pat down mortor and decorative plaster. Whenever I visit a new area of creation, I can't help but wonder how these people survived the land before we tamed it with our asphalt and speed limit signs. I wonder what it must have been like to be the first one to ever see it, the first ones to learn the footsteps of the land and make it thier own through the toil and sweat poured into the sheer effort it takes just to walk through it.

After exlporing the ruins, we headed east to Durango, where a friend has recently moved. We ate some gigantic slices of Pizza, dodged St. Patrick's drunked revelers (although I was tempted to take one girl up on the face painting, but resisted when I realized paying a drunk person $5 to draw on my face might be less fun that it sounds) and bought a thouristy T-shirt because I think it is important to have at least one article of clothing proving that you have visited some areas of your own state. As nightfall set in, we ventured north on the Million Dollor Highway, which I think must be called this as a result of a recent shooting of Fear Factor on the trecherous highway characterized by sheer cliffs outlined by the white line on the road and a complete lack of guardrails. Lets just say I was actually happy that it was too dark to see how far we might fall to our eminent deaths. We did however, find a few minutes to get out of the car and marvel at the abundance of stars erased by our addiction to light here in the city. We made it back to the cabin all in one peice and quite proud of our bravery.

Wednesday, as Angelina slept off the terror of the night before, I got up and took a short walk down the river and then returned to create the most beautiful stack of waffles that have ever come from my hands (photos coming soon). We spent some time exploring the quaintness of Ouray and also developed a bit of a treasure-hunt, searching for the shops that were actually open after runnning into more than one shop-window bearing signs scrawled with "out to Lunch" or "back in May." Amoung the shops that were open, however, was perhaps my new favorite bok sotre in the state of Colorado, which houses a vast array of books on the history of Colorado, the west, and women in the west, as well as an eclectic collection of anitque glass objects, shards of indian-painted pottery, and other rusty objects seemingly dug from the mountainside out the back door.

The day's outside-the-car adventures concluded with a ride on the Gondola at Telluride, where we scored some cool drinks (Carmel Frappe-- me, Mango/Rasp Smoothie-- Anglina) from "The Coffee Cowboy," a little drink bar housed in a horse trailer parked beside a collection of picnic tables covered in colorfully-printed vinyl. We then headed back up towards I-70 for a long and arduous ride home, which was complete with a pow-wow with a prisoner transport at the Conoco in Georgetown sometime around 11 p.m.

The last couple of days were a nice opportunity to get away from the phone and computer and regularly-paved streets. It has been a long time since I've really had the chance (and the money) to get away to a new place. When I started college, I remember hearing someone talk about how travleing just opens you up to all sorts of new ways of thinking. At that moment, I decided to make it my goal to experience as many new places as possible while in college, including deciding to move 800 miles away for a few months. But since getting back from Idaho, I haven't had the money or time to get real far away until now and it felt so good.

The thing I've been thikning alot about the last couple days is the importance of risk-taking. Putting your toe out there, into the cold water. For me, just staying up past 11 is risky. Being outside after 11 is even more outof the ordinary for me. So it was good for me this week to get out into a new place for me. I did a lot of visual research for my next bout of paintings, which was nice, but now I'm going to have to figure out how to sort it all out in my head to decide where to start.

If you'd like to buy me a present...

from Imogene

Her Morning Elegance / Oren Lavie

And this is also awsome.

feelin' good

I am feeling especially good tonight-- maybe due to the relief of a finished Exam in my Art of Mexico in the Age of Conquest. I was thinking as I was writing my essay that for me, writing, especially writing about art is like making a painting. I love the creative act, even if it is an exam. I'm weird, this I know.

Anyway, I've been fantastically inspired by a recent stream of new bloggers and artists websites. I feel like each day I find way too many wonderful creative things to look at and each day I feel more alive to the possibility of being just as creative on the outside as these people are. So, here's a little video from a recent new blog, Swallowfield, which I found quite wonderful indeed.

Feeling Good, Nina Simone
by mrfnk

I realize that I've abandoned this blog a bit, but as I've been reading more blogs about creative inspiration and such, I think I am going to revisit this space and work on posting more on my creative endeavors and processes as well as reflecting more on my teaching experiences, especially as I get closer to student teaching and then on to other things.

This semester I've been working at Loveland High School with Brain Causer in his Drawing I classes. Now that we're midstream as far as the semester is concerned, I'm really enjoying working with a teacher who is constantly asking questions about how he can improve his classes. Each day I visit his class, I look forward to the interesting question he poses about how to solve different problems or the challenges he shares with us concerning developing an art program.

As for my art, this semester finds me much more inspired. I've been working more with landscapes and am exploring the relationship of memories and emotional understanding of these spaces. I have also begun working on an Altered book, which also deals with the idea of environment, space, and the interplay of self and these elements. I am also excited about exploring all kinds of color relationships and approaches to the emotional knowledge we store up about the places that fill the every day parts of our lives.

A couple of goals: As I hope to develop this blog a bit further, I want to be more diligent about writing about my art and posting photos and ideas. I've been really inspired by a number of blogs I've been reading and want to develop my skills in creating the same sort of inspirational space here. As I have also received a fabulous toy for my 22nd birthday, I hope to post a "Photo of the Day," as I pick out the little visual joys in my life.

To start things off, I posted a little pic above I took about a week ago that epitomizes the joy in the midst of everyday-ness. Maybe this blog will become more of a photo journal... we'll see