the end of the tunnel...

We are in the home-stretch of the fall semester, and I couldn't be happier to see the light up ahead. This semester has been a challenge, with teaching more classes than I ever had before. My students, however, were gems. In the midst of grading their last essays--before final portfolios, that is--I am charmed and entertained and I get it. It is so very satisfying to identify the various ways in which my students grow as writers. With the tough middle-months of the semester behind me, I can stretch into these last essays like a cat in a sun-patch. I get to settle in and see the "after" work of students who have gritted it out for 14 seemingly-long weeks.

It's good that we are at the end, too, because my shoulder has been so sore lately! Intently reading and commenting on hundreds of essays does not do a body good, however pleasantly my students express themselves. At least, with the end of the tunnel close at hand, I can be encouraged. There is hope, rest, right around the corner.

Bring it on!

thoughts about process and product

I'm beginning to get really interested in the dichotomy of "process vs. product". In our post-modernity, it seems an increasingly-investigated paradigm. As a writing instructor, as a writer, I'm consistently weighing the importance of process against the eventual--the expected--product. What use is a sterling piece of writing to my students if they don't understand how it came to be, and thus, can't reproduce it? What use is a savvy, strategic writing process if it is not applied to create a sparkling, written product?

Gin Ferra asks herself this question in relation to her knitting. Is the set of orange loops a sweater in process, or just a bunch of tangled yarn? Is there functionality and beauty in the process, or are we just after the endgame, the product?

I think it is important to investigate these questions. Considering process in our lives, from writing to knitting to relationships, may prevent our society's ultimate spiral into utter-egocentrism, into perpetual consumerism. But, while I perhaps can't take on the culture of the entire western world, I can teach writing that privileges a sound awareness, and deft use of, process. Acknowledgment and application of strategic writing processes do produce good writing, I've seen it. I continue to see it in my classroom. What comes next, I think, is examining what I see and articulating it so that others can understand it, can see it, too.

the word articulate

I've been thinking a lot lately about the word articulate.

One of it's definitions is joint, as in the spine

or foot.

It made me think of dancing, and how some dancers articulate movement as they dance, that is, they move each bone independent of the others, thus lengthening and sustaining movement.

vanilla thursday

I am sipping the last of my vanilla bean latte and my petite vanilla scone is long gone. It's a vanilla thursday, and I'm feeling unfocused.

Thinking about ways to get involved...

The National Day of Writing is coming up in October. I'm thinking about ways to get my classes involved. Any suggestions?

curtain-obsessed

Whew. Now that my summer class is over, I have about a week and a half of "staycation" ahead of me. This is good, because I need to freakin' nest already!

I'm obsessed with curtains lately. I keep envisioning different styles and configurations for the windows of each room. Curtains are a big deal, I think, because they can really set the mood and of course, bring color and texture.

These curtains are fascinating. designed by Florian Krautli, they are full of tiny magnets...

...so you can form them any way you like! Sculptural curtains, indeed.

But my heart belongs to these:


What could be better?

rainy day

Ah, what could be better than sleeping in with the pattering of rain tapping away at the roof and windows? Well, I couldn't exactly sleep in today, but I can revel in the odd rainy day. It has been so sunny and warm and summery lately, that this cool gray rain is almost a relief! I am forced to stay inside and think.

Of all the Impressionists, I've always had a thing for Gustave Caillebotte. Of course, his "Rainy Day in Paris" is world-renown, as well as "The Floorscrapers" from 1876. But with rain-induced time on my hands, I decided to do some searching for my favorite Caillebotte.

Along the way, I found this other, lesser-known "Floorscrapers", actually painted a year after the one above. I love it when artists take on subject matter in different ways over long spans of time. It really shows off different perspectives, discoveries that the artists themselves make along the way.

But, this is my favorite: "Young Man at His Window", painted in 1875. I love that the room and the view remind me of the view from my room when I first visited Paris. I love the stony-cool colors and the dramatic figure in his black suit. It is full of mystery and longing. If you look closely, following the "gaze" of the young man, you can see a female figure standing on the street corner. This intimates a story without fully spelling it out for us, and raises more questions than it answers. I like that.

coffee enlightenment?

Sitting down to breakfast in a strange house. Well, nothing alarming...I am housesitting. I'm keeping company with two sweet, neurotic dogs and enjoying the exotic delights of cable television and granite countertops.

There is lots of great light in this house, which gets me thinking in several directions. Of course, I think about our new place and how to best harness the light from the east/west facing windows. Alas, no southern ones. This post from Apartment Therapy Europe gave some good pointers, though.

I also got to thinking about light, in terms of consciousness. As a thoroughly non-morning person, I often wake up feeling swallowed in a mental shadow. A large cup of coffee and an hour of slow awakening are my usual requirements for feeling sane and alert. What is it about light that is both comforting and harsh? Why do we use light-metaphors when referring to our mind, our awareness, our quality of engagement with the universe (she was enlightened)? I briefly thought about springing these questions on my students today...but it might be too deep. Or, it might not be.

halfway there...

About half of the really important/just plain busy things I have to do are done. Yay! Now, the deep breath before the plunge...

Projects
I am moving this week! I have piles and piles of dust-gathering boxes clustered all around the house. They are bound for our new digs...I just can't wait until they're all safely over there.

Thinking
About things people do in their sleep. I was listening to the Signal the other night, and Lori Brown was talking about a man, Lee Hadwin, who--get this--paints and draws in his sleep! Here are some of his pieces:






How cool is that? What do you wish you could do in your sleep?

Reading
Right now I'm working my way through this book:

Bill Bryson is terribly funny in unexpected, almost shy ways. He sneaks up on you and all the sudden, you're laughing out loud! It's great. The only problem is, it makes me want to be traveling right now...grrr. So frustrating! Well, everything in it's time.

crawling on my hands and knees

I feel like I'm about to walk into a dangerous jungle. The next, oh, ten days or so are ridiculously packed with important, attention-worthy travels, experiences, and friends. I am just a tiny bit intimidated.

When we were in Seattle last month, we took a long hike into the mountains one day. It was gorgeous, and challenging. The trail took us through deep green woods and moss-carpeted boulders, over log-bridges, through massive grey piles of sharp-edged rocks, and into glacial territory. We hiked to a glacier lake that was a thick emerald color, fed by the active glacier just across the water from where we stood. It was truly a spectacular view.

But, the hike was intimidating. It took us all day. I mean, we started out briskly enough, sort of cocky, actually.
"What? This isn't that hard!"
Later, when we were crawling up switch-backs and sucking in the dramatically thin air, it was a different story. My feet hurt, I was sucking in air like an 80 year old chain smoker who's just jogged around the block. Somehow, though, (ok, with lots of encouragement!) I made it to the top.

So, while this may not totally (if I'm being honest) inspire a "bring it on, world!" defiance, it at least tells me this: if I don't give up, I will eventually gain the peak. Crawling on my hands and knees, but making it.

time and goals and headaches

Last night I watched one of my favorite movies, Before Sunrise, for the like, millionth time. Towards the end of the movie, Ethan Hawke recites lines from a W.H. Auden poem:

But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
'O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.

'In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.


I have some time on my hands this evening, and I'm trying to put it to good use. I trapsed up to the bookstore, and now am sitting at a coffee shop, thinking, and attempting to write a bit. I went to plug in my computer at said coffee shop, and slammed my head really hard into a big metal sign that was hanging from the ceiling. Man, I am still seeing bright colors flash!

Maybe it's the bump on my head, or maybe it's the poetry, but I'm contemplating lots of goals...little ones: commenting on some book pages for a friend. Big ones: thinking about going to Europe with the hubs. Meanwhile, the long evening stretches, empty and full at once, and I will try to chip away at these goals.

improvising and keeping cool...

When triple H conditions strike, what's a girl to do but strike back with frozen snacks?

Behold, the chocolate-dipped frozen banana bites I created with help from my trusty Bon Appetit. I didn't have any candy bars on hand, which is what the recipe called for to create the coating, so I improvised. I used a mix of espresso powder and cocoa for one variety, coarsely chopped sesame seeds for another, chopped dried cranberries, and chopped crystalized ginger~which ended up being my favorite!

The frozen banana centers are delightfully cool and creamy, almost like ice-cream.

Frozen grapes are another, super easy, fun frozen thing to eat. Just give 'em a rinse, and toss 'em in the freezer on a sheet pan covered with wax paper. Delish! I hold 'em on my wrists for a second before popping them in my mouth!

home sweet home, and lots to do!

I am glad to be back in the mitten.

Last week we had a marvelous time in Washington state; we hiked and swam, drank wine and ate really fresh food, wandered around the city. Of course, there was really, really good coffee.

For all the great experiences, I am shamelessly glad to be home again. It was a much longed-for vacation, with a much-longed for homecoming. You know when you just get tired--not in your body, but in your mind? My mind was tired, and ready to come home and rest.

For now, I am excited about the freshness of summer! There is lots to be done, adventurous transitions to be made, glorious books to be read. Here is the sum-up:

Projects:
The tomatoes are doing well--growing quite tall, to my delight.

Thinking:
About ways to incorporate 'ZINEs into my summer class. Anybody have good examples?

Reading:
Possession by A.S. Byatt. Just finished it, actually, with a satisfied and deep sigh. It was thick and twisted with language, but with a racing quality that pulled me through to the very last page, which was heart-rending and poetic. Highly recommend.

a summer project

What a lovely day I had yesterday! We met up with my sister-in-law and her two precious little boys, and had a glorious afternoon of estate-sale-shopping and front-porch-sitting. Jake made some iced tea and we sipped cold drinks and watched as a shower of helicopters rained down for a good fifteen minutes! They shimmered in the saturating light, spinning and flashing like bits of gold. Now, the ground is covered with them.

Sara (my sis-in-law) also gave me some plants. I am now the proud owner/caretaker of two cherry tomato plants and some oregano. Um, I generally have a *black* thumb, so basically my goal this summer is to not kill them.

I scoured the closets, shelves and the whole garage for a spade...something to dig in the dirt with! I found...nothing. Thus, out came one of our lovely serving spoons from the registry (my thanks to the nice relative who got it for us!) It was the most elegant (and sturdy) of digging tools.

Keep your fingers crossed for these poor plants! Hopefully I will keep them alive long enough to reap some tasty benefits.

Vacation Daydreams

Ugh. I want to be on vacation SO BAD. Still a few weeks, though. I'm working through the revision process on my thesis, which is interesting and good for me as a writer. I am not a very patient person, though, and I want it to be done...yesterday!
Cue the breathing. I know that this is another excellent opportunity to practice contentment. Also, hope. (as in, I hope that my thesis is finished soon, so I can play!)

Part of my thesis involves a word study. I investigated hope, among other terms, to help define my personal beliefs. Hope can be defined as a noun or a verb. In one sense, it is the act of confident expectation, the act of anticipating. In another sense, it is the object of the confident expectation, the “someone or something on which hopes are centered” (Merriam-Webster).To help more clearly visualize the concept, we can look to the sixth chapter of Hebrews for a particularly concrete metaphor, “…hope is the anchor for the soul, sure and steadfast” (Hebrews 6:19 ASV).

Anchors appear in our lives and our subconscious, in myriad ways. We have HTML anchors, taking the shape of a lower case “a” between greater-than and less-than symbols, < a >, which help create hyperlinks in the digital texts we negotiate daily. We sink anchors into our drywall before hanging heavy pictures and shelves, to support the screws or nails. Most archetypal, however, is the ship’s anchor. Even here, there is rich diversity of imagery, from the classic shape on Popeye’s forearm to German-engineered sculptural anchors carried on yachts.

For practical purposes, a good working anchor will “set” quickly, or penetrate the seabed to secure itself, while less desirable anchors will “plough” the seabed instead. It is also desirable to get maximum “hold” from one’s anchor, which can be measured by the pounds of pressure it takes to dislodge the anchor from it’s resting place; the more pounds it can resist before being moved, the better (ROCNA). Applying these concepts to the Biblical term, might lead us to the following picture: A ship, that in any sort of weather, no matter how violent or threatening, can always be seen holding steadily in its position. Why? Because there is a strong line attaching it to a quick-setting anchor that gives it maximum hold. It doesn’t budge. The steady ship is the substance, the anchor is what the substance comes out of, or connects to. The ship is our faith. The line that connects it is the verb usage of hope, or our confident expectation. The anchor itself is the noun usage of hope, the Someone on whom hope is centered: Jesus Christ.

BAKED

My friend, Jen, just got me this cookbook for my birthday. There are some heady recipes here, and it's been fun just flipping through the glossy pages and gazing at the delicious-looking treats. Some seem pretty complex, with looong ingredient-lists, so I decided to start with the basics: the "baked" brownie.


Holy cow. Those brownies were fan-f*ing-tastic.

I made 'em for dessert for our pizza n' prosecco party, which went famously. We had the both of our fams over for make-your-own pizzas: I rolled out individual sized dough circles, and had all the toppings on the table so everyone could sit around and chat while they created their pizza masterpiece. Even my brother-in-law, the self-proclaimed pizza connisseur, was satisfied with his pizza. It was really fun! My favorite part, though, was standing in the kitchen, absorbed in rolling out dough, and sensing my family, Jake's family, our friends, hanging out, chatting, laughing. The rapid little thumps of the kids footsteps as they ran around. It was all like music to me.

eat, read, type, realize that you've gained fifteen pounds...

I just finished the book, Eat, Pray, Love, by Elizabeth Gilbert, and I gained fifteen pounds. Not necessarily in the span of time it took me to read the book, but still. Finishing up grad school (just final thesis revisions to go!) has freed up some time for "fun" reading, and I scored the Gilbert book with some other great finds at the used bookstore down the street. On the one hand, I was totally won over by Gilbert's conversational tone. On the other, I was seething with jealousy, that she got to spend a year traveling and writing about it. I guess you could say it is my dream to do exactly that. Having a book on the New York Times Bestseller list wouldn't hurt, either.

Something I was thinking about while reading this book, was the approach Gilbert takes toward "God", defining God, relating to God...It is a head-spinning topic, and one that is divisive. I found myself not able to agree with Gilbert's take on the whole God-thing. I took this as a good sign. Meaning, it is probably healthy to read/interact with art and literature and humans that I don't necessarily agree with. Not only can it help me practice listening and learning, but it can reveal perspectives I would never have considered before.

Ah, summer reading. I'm excited for summer, for new books, and for a chance to shed these extra pounds that have caked on from a few semesters too many of sitting, studying, and snacking. This means I will need to balance (a key word Gilbert explores!) my time: reading, yes. Walking, too. Maybe even a few softball games. Bring it on.

at last...

...it is spring! I feel lighter, somehow, with the new freshness in the air and the budding trees, and the thoughts of summer vacation dancing in my head. I definitely heart spring.