A woman in the painting class had a beautiful pink, a happy bright cheery pink. Classmates were referring to it as "Barbie Pink." Having always been bad at Barbie (I wrote about it here), I was very happy to learn it had a different name, "Opera Pink", and asked for it for my birthday.
K. thinks I make very dull wish lists, "Paint, and a pen?" (There were earphones on there, too.) It's because I hate shopping. I can happily wander in a art, book or yarn shop, but it's like pulling teeth to get myself there. (I also dislike driving.) When it comes to shopping for anything else, especially clothes, that's another story. I'd rather go to the dentist. (Probably another reason I was so bad at Barbie.)
Anyhow, I had a lovely time messing around with the new pink yesterday. The orange and green stripes are a little strong. It was a relaxing and rosy piece of time anyway.
The assignment was to paint stripes in two colors, intersecting planes, values, and light . . . but I had already floated off to some other place(s).
It started with my hat.
Colors by Hobbledehoy, spun and knit by me a few years ago.
Thank you so much for sending kind thoughts and light our way. They are all much appreciated and heart warming and up-lifting. I just love this community- how it is a place for sharing and receiving inspiration, encouragement and support. It is a comforting place to be a part of. We are ok. This may be a stressful anxious stretch, but I am holding fast to the idea/hope that things generally do work out.
Painting with pink helps.
Moon stitching on old silk (faintly blue from the end of indigo season) using Jude's dimensional face techniques. She looks a bit worried. Maybe it's because she was mostly stitched in the dim light of evening?
I even bumped into myself, discovering another needle in the path.
I'm not worrying about any of it, just stitching and going along, thinking of the fast and fun art that happened in the Pre-K classroom this quilt used to live in.
"Stories of the Moon"
Painting is going along in much the same manner. We had our last class of the term yesterday. With some wheeling & dealing of schedules with the teachers of the two classes I work with, I'm happy I get to take the class again next term.
And there was snow last night! It's turning to slush now with the rain, but it was pretty at midnight.
Not much about Cubism, that's for sure. After finishing, feeling like, and completely disliking the face above for the Abstract Watercolor class, I moved on to my cat . . .
"Twinkle in Indigo & Twilight" or "Furry Nude Reclining on Couch"
Surprisingly people really liked that crazy face up top. My brain hurt trying to understand their comments, because the piece really grates on me. I was hoping we would move on to something else, but no. More of the same, she said. I held my head and tried to drum up some inspiration.
All I could think about was the day before, at school. It was a rough one, full of repeating requests over and over to students, marching a couple of them down to the office, with some barking on the way, of pointing at the spot next to me in a demand for them to move within my reach. Over and over, until the day was done. Ugh.
And then I painted. Maybe not Cubist, but I like it.
It's called "Whack-A-Mole".
When I got to school yesterday, I went to find the teacher who inspired the hope stone in my pocket (see yesterday's post), wanting to see how she was doing, and to thank her. Sitting down next to her at her desk, the tears started to fall.
We held hands, and she said, "He has nothing to do with us. He is in his jet plane way over there, and we are still here, walking on our own two feet across each street." Such grace and centeredness. We saw each other several times throughout the day, touching hands as we passed.
Much of the day was actually full of goodness. The fourth grade classes didn't need me, so I wandered across the hall to help in the art room. The fifth graders were watercoloring. It was so nice to have a little time with the students from last year. One boy had been placed at the back table for behavior reasons. I sat with him for a while, we shared painting tips, and talked about things. The beautiful sky at the top of the post is his work so far.
I also got to read to the classes while they painted, a Native American story, and a picture book of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s life and words. "Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that."(From my painting class today, inspired by a seashell, the day at school, and the hope of finding center,)
At the beginning of class, everyone was talking about the news, talking and talking. I painted. Twenty minutes later, the teacher called us to gather for the start of class. The talking began again. I was standing at the teacher's side, and put my hand on her shoulder, "We need to paint," I whispered. She said, "Of course," and we began.
And our mayor issued this statement:
“In Seattle, our results show a city ready to lead in building a more equitable and progressive future.
“As we look forward, we will challenge our people to live up to our values, to ensure we build on the foundation that was laid tonight and that we foster the equitable, inclusive world we envision.”
-Ed Murray, Seattle
This week we were to bring something from nature to our abstract watercoloring class.
Jeweler's loops were passed around. We were told to look at the lines, shapes, patterns, and then to "deconstruct the tyranny of representation!"
I'm not sure if I undid any oppression, but I did have a lovely time playing with pretty colors.
If you were to wander by a certain college classroom on a Thursday morning, and happened to peek in, you would see students in an abstract watercolor painting class. Most of them have taken courses with this wonderful teacher before. Most of them know what they are doing. But there is one student, just left of center, who you will most likely find with her head resting in the tips of her very tense fingers, looking around at others' work, furrowing her eyebrows as she looks down at her own, trying to remember what the assignment was, and wondering . . . What are the fracking rules?!?
There was a kind comment from the person next to her, "Just relax, don't think so much . . .," to which she replied, "Have you met me?"
And then there was the day when she clearly heard the teacher say, "Rectangular . . . touching the edges . . ." Then later, as the teacher passed by this student's rectangular, touching the edges piece, constructively commenting on its empty square center and boxiness . . . she thought in her head, with clenched teeth, "But that's what a rectangle is!" more confused than ever.
Thank goodness for the friend who met her for lunch and knows her (and her need-to-follow-the-rules-control issues), who said, "You just need to add an "ish" to everything."
I give you, "Rectangle-ish". . .
This class is going to be SO VERY GOOD for me.
I will spend tomorrow, the first day of fifty-three, stitching, spinning, reading the new issue of Taproot, maybe watch a movie, and then eat pasta and chantilly cake with my guys, and, hopefully, take a bath in a tub that, hopefully, someone has scrubbed for me.
And, sometime in the following 364 days, I hope to knit another blue sweater, submit an entry in a local art show, get a new tattoo, find a watercolor class to take, legally change my name to Hazel (more about that another day), and work on being braver.
"Slowly growing into myself"