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Thursday, September 14, 2017

CREATE and leave your TROUBLES BEHIND....

Ok, it's been awhile. A long while. I won't pretend.
I am thrilled to back on the horse and giving myself full permission to create again.

It's something I am actually thinking about a lot these days.  

My new second grade class is now in full swing.  Today officially marks one week that we have been second grading together and I am already hearing myself repeat the same mantra over and over---
"WHEN WE DON'T CREATE, WE CREATE TROUBLE".

I am using this as fuel not only to allow my own artist to play, but moreover, to remind my kiddos to be overly protective of their play time- of their time to imagine, of their time to dream and to create.

I don't believe that taking away their playtime is the road to getting kids to behave.
I believe the opposite- if you want an engaged, productive and vibrant group of happy students,  and I want to reinforce, HAPPY-then you have to allow for creativity- it must be intentionally planned and allotted for and you must absolutely bottom line insist that they too, become stealth guardians of their "play"  time. 

Monday, December 2, 2013

Antagonist Speak.. Georgia vs. Her SELF


Antagonists Speak... if you listen that is.
An exercise.

Meet Georgia.

"I love ballet. I love cowboys. I love gladiators.  And I love astronauts and I love everything. Why do I have to choose a career anyway?
I drew a picture of me in a space shuttle wearing my cowboy hat and pink tutu. Ms. Vega told me I didn’t follow directions.  But in my own way, I did. I drew myself wearing and being all the things I want to be. 
I can’t to do my homework and I ‘m not good at deciding.  Ms. Vega didn’t like my ideas. So now everyone in class is probably just going to laugh at me and Ms. Vega will say I didn’t do it right anyway.
I know. I’m going to be sick tomorrow. I ‘m going to tell Mom that my tummy hurts and that I can’t go to school cause I will have a fever. 
Mommy will say, yes and let me stay home. She will make me grilled cheese and chicken noodle soup and rub my head and Ms. Vega will be sorry. She’ll be sad that I am sick and wonder if it’s all her fault."
- Georgia, age 7

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Tread Lightly....sensory exercise take 2

Sensory Exercise- The BestPlace
God’s Country

I step onto the hot tarmac just having left the confines of a dizzying single engine plane. I don’t do well with motion sickness.Especially when it’s hot and the humidity, too thick to breathe my way to feeling better, blankets you in a stifling thermal layer. It even smells humid.Lush. Wet. Green.
My stomach does a few loops and twists before I’m able to really feel like I’m breathing again. Just being out of the plane relieves my soul. I sigh.
I gain my footing. Dizzying whirls now slow down.
And
I
 just
stand
there.
It’s distinctly raw, virgin type land.
The sun pounces on us and the tarmac and yet, I suddenly can’t feel the heat anymore.
I’m lulled. Blue Hyacinth McCaw flirt and flutter above our heads. Seeming now to have announce we’ve arrived.  I smile, entranced.

Swamps, marsh, lakes, and forests, lots of forest, takeup the land. A giant magic mosaic carpet…


We aren’t alone. Foreboding creatures lay still sunbathing in the afternoon hothouse.
My heart kicks itself and its beat goes up a few notches.


Night falls.
Rain boots squish in the mud.
My flashlight spills upon redeyes set ablaze.
Where guttural barks echo through vast waterways,distinctly un-dog like;

Caiman!

Where am I?
I'm in God's country where you're advised to treadlightly.
In the world’s largest wetlands; Brazil’s,Pantanal.

Monday, November 11, 2013

Heart Held Dreams...

Quote of my day:

The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why."

-Mark Twain


Something about that quote just makes me smile from the inside.
Take a moment to contemplate all that you are.
Then celebrate.



 

Friday, November 8, 2013

Join me! Sensory Exercise #2 Describe the Best or Worst Place

This writing exercise is meant to to help jog the muscles.
Writing is after all, a muscle.
So, use it.

Today I am inviting readers to write.
Please describe the best or worst place you've ever been to.
Incorporate all the senses.

Get us there.
Ready. Set. Go!

I'll write back with my version.
Please post yours :)


Here is my version...


A blood orange sky.
A single engine plane.

Humidity blankets
the wet smell of land.
Pure. Lush. Green.

I step onto the tarmac.
Lulled right in...
blue Hyacinth McCaw’s announce
I’ve arrived.

Night falls.
Rain boots squish in the mud.
A looming presence
foreboding creatures.
My flashlight falls
onto red eyes set ablaze.
Guttural barks echo
through waterways.
Distinct and un-dog like;
Caiman.




I'm in God's country.
Where you're advised to tread lightly.
Here. In the world’s largest wetlands;
Brazil’s, Pantanal.



Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Swimming Around in My Earliest Memory: A sensory exercise....

I am three or four years old, max and we rented a small cabin on a lake. I think we are in Missouri but I can’t be sure. We never traveled much after my early childhood years, especially after my baby brother was born. That’s probably another reason why I can remember it.  It was sunny. The kind of summer time-stick-to-your skin hot. The humidity clung onto my skin and made my red hair frizz out more than normal.  I had on my little blue canvas sneakers and my white and red floral applique bathing suit. I loved that thing.  I also wore what would be the near death of me, a plastic inner tube around my waist.  I felt like a big girl.

Our cabin sat right on a little wooden dock. I was so proud to be able to walk right up to the lake and jump in all by myself. 

I don’t remember if my parents were in the water or if the front door to the cabin was open where they kept an ear from inside.  Maybe I simply walked out on my own but that part is hard to recall.  I was in my little baby inner tube, kicking and floating about happily. The cool water felt good and I was having a ball. All was well, or so I thought. 

I don’t know how it happened but it happened. All of sudden water rushed deep into my nose and throat.  My little legs now upright, sticking out in the air were thrashing about.  I tried calling for help but that made it worse.  I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t turn right side up. I’m completely upside down stuck and drowning in that damn inner tube.  I tried paddling and pushing the water away with my tiny hands in hopes to get back up for much needed air. No use. The inner tube held me prisoner.  Head under water and panic rushed in. 

That’s when someone grabbed hold of my legs and pulled me right up.  I couldn’t yet see, but I heard him. He was yelling and calling out for help. After the coughing and simultaneous crying stopped, he came into focus: Dad.  My hero. 

Dad pulled me out and saved me from the grips of that stupid F&^-ing inner tube.

And I never wore one again.