Aloha

 It's the first of the month so I'm movin' out.  I've upgraded to a sweet new home in the same neighborhood that fits me better.  To use the customary Hawaiian word for both 'goodbye' AND 'hello'.....Aloha!

Won't you come visit?  http://leap-year-baby.blogspot.com/

On your way, please check out my interview with the lovely artist and my friend Amy Komar on her blog: http://artistinthearctic.blogspot.com/ 

See you soon pink balloon~

~Leap Year, Baby...

the light

As I proceeded to tell the story of that moment from yesterday I realized that if I really delved into it, the whole day was rather synchronistic...

First, interactions at work with my one-on-one high school pal were laborious and tenuous, reminding me of pulling teeth. In the moment, I grew frustrated, tired and more and more irritated with each communicative attempt. It was almost one of those scenarios where I want to throw my arms in the air and then march into my office and shut the door, left in the comfort of my introversion...but I AM working on patience and perspective after all, so I hung tough...

And then I became acutely aware of the teaching styles of two the aforementioned 1/1 pal's professors (once again I have found myself trapped in the professional role encapsulating the stage of maturation I hated most...teenage adolescence): the first, the story-teller, recounting factoids about the Civil War and general European aims and ideals of colonialism. He had a considerably high percentage of student engagement and respect. Kids were raising their hands to ask pertinent questions! Bravo Mr. So-and-so.
...the second, the hopeless optimist/idealist too eager to dive into some hearty juicy material and circle inside the constructs of the English language with a leaky boat and a lot of faith (akin to myself), short on patience with lofty goals. He got frustrated and shut down in the middle of class..."I'm done with this" he said, "read the rest silently and do the work". The thinness of his teacher-skin shone then, all student credibility lost in an instant.

Of the latter I thought what is this guy doing here? Though I felt a kind of sad likeness to him...and then thought what am I doing [in this field]?? Ah. I should have seen the rest coming...

The final bead in this string of happenings or awarenesses, led to the epiphany.

"You're being an ingrate" the woman said to her son in the middle of the coffee shop where I was awaiting my interview later that day (that of course is an offshoot topic which I glaze over for the moment). "You're being an ingrate" she said again to him, who by the way I hadn't heard say anything whiny or childish or selfish. She said it no less than three times until I just had to see what her spoiled and apparently embarrassing child was doing, so I turned around. I curtly glanced at her. Then the boy, then back at her as she caught my judging expression. Then to the boy again just to make sure I wasn't missing something...

Now, parents disrespecting, neglecting, or mistreating their kids is a hypersensitive issue for me. I attribute this trigger issue to my desire to be a positive role model and to keep my morals anally intact (forget that I said anal back there, ok?) I have not really ever articulated the "why" in this truth, however. Though it is seemingly obvious that its roots come from my own childhood.

[disclaimer: sometimes at the moment of clarity...epiphany...we look back and go "duh"..."that was so obvious" and "what took you so long?". But we all have to do things our own way and in our own time, right?]

The woman talking to her son brought me to the light...to my realization-trail (it's linear now and makes so much more sense! duh!)

It's all about me. 'Me' being talked down to when I was shy and unable to fend for myself...as a child ridiculed, mocked, belittled, tricked, disregarded, manipulated and critcized essentially compelled me to do better. It fostered my trigger issue sensitivity and I, at 18, wanted to do something about it...build kids up, make them feel special, unique and valued. Rise above..be the difference...and so on. Be a teacher!


I would stop childhood injustice in the world one kid at a time!
(read with newspaper headline inflection)

And for me that is what it is really all about. None of this crash-course teaching, none of this seven-periods-a-day-times-thirty-kids kind of work...that is not going to achieve the work I yearn for, nor does it suit my ever-increasing introverted tendencies to be "on" against my will. I don't have thick skin (not thick enough), or patience (not patience enough) to permeate the behaviors and issues en mass...then try to scurry through some manufactured "one-size-fits-all" art lesson as an afterthought.

I do like interacting with youth one on one. I do have passion for being one who builds kids up when others are breaking them down. But I was never made from the mold of American public school teachers. I always knew that. But now I know why. And it means in my head that I'm not crazy or scared or a slacker or an excuse-maker...so now I can proceed to take action. In the right direction. With confidence and fortitude. Finally.

...It was then I realized this visit to Pearl Bakery may not be about the interview or the position at all. Rather, it was perhaps but a vehicle for my long-awaited epiphany.



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*This post begins the "phasing-out" of earthseeandsky as I've known it over the past several years (an homage to travel and transience, transition and conundrums). My writing will not cease, but I will spend more energies on developing words that invite and recognize opportunism, synchronicity, inspiration and creative intention. Thus, earthseeandsky will become a more art-centric blog ( that will certainly still highlight the ironies of life) with a new name and fresh face, a space of images, words, art, people, things, and places near and far. Stay tuned, oh loyal triad of patrons!

accidental poetry (#4)

one

a glimpse

a step further

retain

such

stillness

(assembled from gathered text fallen, collected, reassembled in and out of May 2010)

Time for Tea

Images from my recent show at Townshend's Teahouse on NE Alberta Street, Portland.

Mixed Media Paintings:

Original postcard sized minis:

accidental poetry (#3)

dream.

express passion

deep
deeply
deeper

a step further...

bellow at a garden party in
stillness
if we are to see or to believe in anything
as such
one day~


(assembled from gathered text collected, fallen, reassembled. 4/14-4/15)

Ceremonial Hanging

In many traditions there are customary coming-of-age ceremonies to solidify the "growing older" of the human body, the maturation of form, and other such passages a person travels through over time. Thirty is in many ways and to (too) many people a milestone of sorts...for better or worse. As I described, my "thirty" ceremony included a journey, a companion and the sea...a symbol of vast expansiveness, unknown, and seeming infinity to stare into. (what a good way to ring in the the future on the day of your birth, no?)

But I also commemorated my turning thirty with a ceremonial hanging:

(Images from show at Cup & Saucer, NE 30th and Killingsworth, Portland, OR through March 31)

I hung my first Portland show.



No matter how seemingly minuscule this show will become in my future endeavors, successes, and achievements, it feels satisfying now and inspiring to start off this decade on the good foot; to know that I have forward movement in the direction of my most desired goals while I look longingly and with intention into the great unknown.

accidental poetry (#2)

and let the chains rattle and great puffs of
passion
flow

and it falls on
every
thing
quiet(ly)

after such
stillness
butterflies come perfect to the light.

(assembled from gathered text collected, fallen, reassembled. 3/10)