I am not the neatest person alive. Not hard for me to admit. I'd rather be clean than neat. But I hate, hate, hate getting messy with my students. I know what you are thinking- art teachers should get dirty. No! Not required. Occasionally though, I loosen my strings, and invite chaos. This week it came in the form of spray painting. After finishing a long unit about stencil design and street art, I promised my little artists, that we would go outside and spray paint our stencils onto new surfaces (legal obviously). Ensuring I keep my word (and their trust) I lugged the eighteen cans home during spring break. Dedication.
Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! Or so they thought. Spray painting equals instant gratification. Perfect for evolving adolescents. I, the teacher, exhibited powerful self control as to not ruin the activity for the students. But honestly speaking it was worth it. As long as I don't have to again for a long while :)
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Traveling Seeker
I'm a bit obsessed with traveling. I haven't done much yet. But I plan to. Appreciating that my job offers me time, traveling is truly a realistic possibility! My parents were, to be fair, cautious (overly) and ingrained in me the magnitude of safety. Although I am adventurous and a curious seeker I can't shake that little timid voice of concern. Still when I become a grown-up (ok I am one already) I'd like to spend my earned money three ways:
1. Quality food - especially good produce, which has always been essential (gracias mama i.l.u.)
2. A place to call home- in a neighborhood that makes me happy, with lots of sunlight
3. Travels- high and low; near and far; experiencing how others create their lives
Last summer I took my first real live adventure travel to Morocco. Holy moly I loved it so! My regularly changing list of places I seek currently includes:
1. Guatemala
2. Spain and Portugal
3. South Africa
4. Thailand
5. San Francisco
6. Nepal
7. Argentina
8. Greece
9. Egypt
10. India
I'll soon be traveling to Japan and honestly I never put much thought in going there. But this wonderful opportunity presented itself and as departure nears I realize wow I am one lucky teacher :)
1. Quality food - especially good produce, which has always been essential (gracias mama i.l.u.)
2. A place to call home- in a neighborhood that makes me happy, with lots of sunlight
3. Travels- high and low; near and far; experiencing how others create their lives
Last summer I took my first real live adventure travel to Morocco. Holy moly I loved it so! My regularly changing list of places I seek currently includes:
1. Guatemala
2. Spain and Portugal
3. South Africa
4. Thailand
5. San Francisco
6. Nepal
7. Argentina
8. Greece
9. Egypt
10. India
I'll soon be traveling to Japan and honestly I never put much thought in going there. But this wonderful opportunity presented itself and as departure nears I realize wow I am one lucky teacher :)
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Coming Home
Home. Certainly it does exist. Right? I think. Well maybe. Or not. I wonder. Is it true?
This week we celebrate Passover, a Jewish annual holiday marking our freedom from slavery in Egypt thousands of years ago. Passover, to most Jews, is defined by two characteristics : No form of bread is to be eaten (replaced by Matzah- unleavened bread) and a Seder (ritual feast) is conducted on the first two nights. As I grow older (maybe wiser) the Great Passover Vacations of my youth, once shared yearly with extended family in Florida, dissolve into scattered nostalgic thoughts. It seems like everything has changed. Not everything. But much of it. And while I cannot relive those celebrated times, it's truly essential that these memories aide in building new ones.
Coming home, what is that about anyway? Really and truly it confuses, intimidates, and distresses me. As an independent, rent paying, NYC apartment dweller, a return to the nest is similar to entering a time warp. Outwardly we've all changed and grown into mature beautiful women but on the inside it's all just a joke: The smells of cooking and cleaning; the rules we must comply to (no cursing, shoes on the furniture, burping, screaming, etc.), the family member alliances, and the pestering behaviors are exactly the same. I left skid-marks on my adolescence, never to return again. But on holidays and especially Passover, when eight days are spent in the nest, somehow those unhappy teenage experiences replay as if I am living them all over again. My sisters and I have outgrown much of our quarrels, Sure! What I've come to understand now, (because of my fascination with family dynamics) is that whatever your age, without conscious effort to be different, we always slip back into our place. Familiarity is comfort. For me that place is in the kitchen. Cooking food and preparing meals gives me a necessary job, precisely removing me from other uncomfortable situations.
The nest, is that my home or my mother's home? Similarly the Hebrews, as they were once called, (check out the Ten Commandments) struggled with this concept once freed from Egyptian slavery. For obvious reasons slavery was horrid, but they were accustomed to it. Freedom on the other hand was unknown. While Egypt was clearly not their home, they were scared to leave. Homeless wanderers not a thrilling option! Truth- most did not join Moses as he led his people out of Egypt. Whether joining the free or remaining behind, the Hebrews were without a nest.
Still we are a united people :)
and my sisters and I will forever laugh at new things and entertain ourselves throughout our time shared together.
This week we celebrate Passover, a Jewish annual holiday marking our freedom from slavery in Egypt thousands of years ago. Passover, to most Jews, is defined by two characteristics : No form of bread is to be eaten (replaced by Matzah- unleavened bread) and a Seder (ritual feast) is conducted on the first two nights. As I grow older (maybe wiser) the Great Passover Vacations of my youth, once shared yearly with extended family in Florida, dissolve into scattered nostalgic thoughts. It seems like everything has changed. Not everything. But much of it. And while I cannot relive those celebrated times, it's truly essential that these memories aide in building new ones.
Coming home, what is that about anyway? Really and truly it confuses, intimidates, and distresses me. As an independent, rent paying, NYC apartment dweller, a return to the nest is similar to entering a time warp. Outwardly we've all changed and grown into mature beautiful women but on the inside it's all just a joke: The smells of cooking and cleaning; the rules we must comply to (no cursing, shoes on the furniture, burping, screaming, etc.), the family member alliances, and the pestering behaviors are exactly the same. I left skid-marks on my adolescence, never to return again. But on holidays and especially Passover, when eight days are spent in the nest, somehow those unhappy teenage experiences replay as if I am living them all over again. My sisters and I have outgrown much of our quarrels, Sure! What I've come to understand now, (because of my fascination with family dynamics) is that whatever your age, without conscious effort to be different, we always slip back into our place. Familiarity is comfort. For me that place is in the kitchen. Cooking food and preparing meals gives me a necessary job, precisely removing me from other uncomfortable situations.
The nest, is that my home or my mother's home? Similarly the Hebrews, as they were once called, (check out the Ten Commandments) struggled with this concept once freed from Egyptian slavery. For obvious reasons slavery was horrid, but they were accustomed to it. Freedom on the other hand was unknown. While Egypt was clearly not their home, they were scared to leave. Homeless wanderers not a thrilling option! Truth- most did not join Moses as he led his people out of Egypt. Whether joining the free or remaining behind, the Hebrews were without a nest.
Still we are a united people :)and my sisters and I will forever laugh at new things and entertain ourselves throughout our time shared together.
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