a walk at dusk

...with my camera.

I've driven past this house for 2 years and today was the first day i noticed this intricate, delightful detailing on the bannister.

this is the type of thing that warms my heart. i saw several posters on main street advertising this golden-eyed kitten than had been FOUND.

my trees and the evening sky:

ceramics update

this

and this

are inspirations for my technique today. all the hand-built bowls i made a few weeks ago have come through their first firing. tonight i painted each one all over with red iron oxide wash. then i glazed only the insides of each, some with white, and some with a nice green.

hopefully i'll have results in a week or two to see how it turned out. meanwhile, i really need to be making much more pottery. the semester is 1/3 over. i need to shelve everything else and focus on pottery while i've got the use of the studio at school.

from a movie:

a newly widowed father questions his son about his sadness...

Daniel: So what's the problem, Sammy-o? Is it just Mum or is it something else? Maybe... school - are you being bullied? Or is it something worse? Can you give me any clues at all?
Sam: You really want to know?
Daniel: I really want to know.
Sam: Even though you won't be able to do anything to help?
Daniel: Even if that's the case, yeah.
Sam: OK. The truth is actually... I'm in love.
Daniel: Sorry?
Sam: I know I should be thinking about Mum all the time, and I am. But the truth is I'm in love and I was before she died, and there's nothing I can do about it.
Daniel: Aren't you a bit young to be in love?
Sam: No.
Daniel: Oh, OK, right. Well, I'm a little relieved.
Sam: Why?
Daniel: Well, you know - I thought it might be something worse.
Sam: [incredulous] Worse than the total agony of being in love?
Daniel: Oh. No, you're right. Yeah, total agony.

thursday, feb. 22nd, 2007

for some reason i'm not writing much here lately. maybe it's that i've been making an effort to create, rather than observing the creativity of others (via their blogs, primarily).

i drove to a really great antique store last week--i discovered it a while ago and this was only my second visit. i arrived about 15 minutes before closing time. however during the few minutes i was in the store, i realized that it made me feel realy good to be in there amongst all the old things. i didn't particularly have the urge to buy anything, i just wanted to touch and smell and look at all the things from a simpler, more innocent time.

i also went on a crafty/art supply shopping rampage & bought an ink pad, rubber stamps, watercolors, fabric, wire, marker, pencils, paintbrushes, and a black box which i decoupaged with the stamps i stole from mom last summer.



last night i took a walk and nearly tripped over a tree branch in the street. i picked it up and carried it home and now it is suspended above my bed--quite the sight--but really very lovely sculpturally, i think.

i'm figuring out in my head how i'm going to create a hanging lampshade using twigs, wire, and fabric. it's either going to be a huge success or spectacularly hideous.

this coming weekend i'm going away a retreat with some of the folks i study the bible with. i have no idea what to expect but i'm hoping for the best.

i've been slaving away writing tests and grading them at work. ughh. it's really quite stressful to make a test an accurate assessment of the material, not too easy or too hard, free of errors that might cause confusion, free of ambiguities which raise problems when grading. then you photocopy them all, tote them to class, and hope that the review session last time was good enough to jog their memories. give them the test, and use the quiet time while they are working to feverishly grade other tests, and also revise the test you wrote for the upcoming class. after class, dash back to your computer, fix the mistakes you found, make two different forms of the same test, make sure the points add up to 100, shuffle the order so students won't be tempted to copy. print them, and as you're headed to the copier, someone reminds you that there's a meeting that it would be great for you to attend. but i promised my students to be available to them prior to the test, so after i make copies i go there instead and two students are there, with questions. i help them to prepare, worrying that i made the test too easy or too hard. i also chat with them a bit--one girl wants to join americorps, so i tell her a bit about the americorps volunteer who organized the new orleans trip.

when the time arrives to begin the calc test, i make sure that students have alternating versions of the test (in a computer classroom there is not enough space to have them sit far apart). there are also two parts to the test--part one with a computer/graphing calculator, and part two without.

i administer all this, as well as the fact that about 5 computers won't start, latecomers, while sitting in the back of the classroom because i want to be able to ensure they don't look up things on the internet while taking the test (they're good kids, but it's good for them to know that i'm watching, so temptation vanishes). back there, i grade more of the tests from the morning for the entire two hours.

near the end of the time, i realize that one student is still working on part I of the test! what??? so i tell him to hurry up and get to part two. a couple of other students didn't turn in their projects so when they finish their tests i confer with them about why, and agree to let them turn a project in late for partial credit. grading the projects is no fun, especially when the students didn't work with others and make all sorts of unbelievable errors and omissions.

when the students start showing up for the class after mine, i take the three students who aren't done yet back to my office and have them work there, while i continue to grade. when i'm done, i record the grades in a grade book. then i enter all the grades in the computer so I can give the students an estimate of their grades so far. i check the roster and find that there are a total of about 5 students who didn't show up for the tests. this means i will have to make special arrangements for them, which is another hassle. i actually phone two of the, but get answering machines, so i hang up. there are confidentiality issues--and you don't want parents getting involved.

my work is done for the day, so i pack up my bags and head out to the car for the 45 minute drive home. i know i have a good job, and believe me i work very hard to keep things as simple as possible, but sometimes it's still just a crazy amount of stress and work. i was at school from 9 am to 7 pm today, and i worked on writing the calculus test for 2-3 hours last night.

i watched office space two nights in a row. job quitting fantasies? that movie is pure fodder. but maybe--i should lay off the office space a bit. take a break for a couple of evenings.

tonight, i walked to the drugstore (which is also the liquor store) and bought wine. i'm trying to unwind. there's this throbbing in my temple as well as a tension in my neck and back.

i'm working on perfecting my irish soda bread technique.

Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

--Mary Oliver, in "The Summer Day"

isn't the truth that we'll spend most of our lives chewing food, washing the dishes, doing laundry, answering the phone, taking out the garbage, or buying toilet paper?

i think i'm arriving at a peace with this.

new room

there's a huge snowstorm coming in. i can hear the flakes hitting the window. it's cozy to be home, even if i am accompanied by piles of work. i'm getting right to it, tho. well, except for blogging.

i rearranged the furniture in my room. the energy has shifted and feels fresh and new. i have a new space for working, which i mentally refer to as a studio:


the results? the table is now somewhat muddy from making 13 bowls, mugs, and pinch pots the other night. i also have my supplies handy for working on my scrapbook/journal, and what ever else comes up. the shell dangly thing over the collage on the right is string + irish shells:



here's the other side of the 'office':

saturday

out of sight, out of mind

an anecdote circulated on our campus: a student was found dumping motor oil down a drain that empties into the reservoir adjacent to campus. he said "i didn't think it went anywhere."

it's not fun to think about where stuff goes. in my fantasy as soon as i plop the bag into the dumpster it vanishes into thin air--i'll never think of it again. my fantasy is that when something flows down the drain it's gone for good, but it goes SOMEWHERE.

water comes from my faucet, electricity flows from my outlets, gas appears at the gas pumps, groceries show up on the shelf. it's a little more troublesome to think about where it actually comes from.

i guess it just hit me that so much insensitivity to the environment is rooted in a fantasy that our modern consumerist world has perpetuated: "light at the flip of a switch!" "just flush and it's gone forever!"

it's just the good ol' law of conservation of matter: "matter changes form, but cannot be created nor destroyed" and conservation of energy: "energy can not be created (made from nothing), or destroyed (made to disappear to no-where)"

it seems to me that these ideas can be extended philosophically--everything anyone does has repercussions. everything is interconnected.

No man is an island, entire of itself
every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main
if a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were,
as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were
any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind
and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls
it tolls for thee.


-- John Donne

i love this picture

it says "fear could kill your heart"

winter memories that glow

friday.
about 10 rambunctious friends that i know from a bible study come over friday night. we talk & each cheese, wine, & pears. one of them is an mk (missionary kid) from indonesia & new zealand. we compare notes. my photographs are complimented, and my keyboard is discovered, dragged out, and played by several people. warmth.

saturday.
i drive to princeton to meet a new friend. after a long lunch in a wood-panelled pub, we walk across the campus, find a church with an open door and enter. dischordant, dramatic organ chords fill the dark soaring space. high up, very blue stained glass windows let in dim winter light. the tortured music rolls over me as i sit in a pew. gazing upward, i wonder what the organist's soul is feeling if what i hear is its expression. the ancient church seems filled with story.

sunday.
a jazz improv session at the local coffee shop. i lug in a heavy bag, spread out my books on a table and bask in the rhythms that has everyone's fingers tapping, heads nodding with appreciation. there is a sense of community as we clap after each piece, but during the song i feel that each person is lost in a private reverie, far away, yet comforted by the saxophone and the taps of the drum.

whole

unless your heart is undivided, you can't do someone much good.

i'm learning that if i "befriend" someone but don't really enjoy their company, that they're not stupid. they won't enjoy my company either--in fact, they'll be kinda pissed when they figure out they were just my charity project.

extrapolating from that, i suspect that the money i grudgingly dole out doesn't do nearly as much good as a gift given with an open hand and open heart.

if you have to wash the dishes, do it well, and find a way to enjoy it. or something like that. i know of at least one person who will object to me picking dishwashing as an example.

i'm not saying we should only do fun, easy, recreational stuff. but do everything you do with your whole heart. it's the only way to live. abundantly.

i'm finding ways to stop doing things i can't do whole-heartedly. its energizing.

boats at night

How lovely is the sound of oars at night
And unknown voices, borne through windless air,
From shadowy voices floating out of sight
Beyond the harbour lantern’s broken glare
To those piled rocks that make on the dark wave
Only a darker stain. The splashing oars
Slide softly on as in an echoing cave
And with the whisper of the unseen shores
Mingle their music, till the bell of night
Murmurs reverberations low and deep
That droop towards the land in swooning flight
Like whispers from the lazy lips of sleep.
The oars grow faint. Below the cloud-dim hill
The shadows fade and now the bay is still.

-Edward Shanks

the idea

click here and here and here to see some funky buildings that i'm talking about.

if you click my amazon wish list you'll see what i'm getting interested in. not that i'm asking for anything...it's just how i keep track of books people recommend, for future reference or for checking at the library.

i just ordered two books that i'm excited to get. one of them is:



below is a picture of a woman's kitchen in ireland that i was enchanted by. i furtively took a picture when she left the room to answer the phone.



here is a picture from the book that is coming in the mail.



i've started paying attention to the architecture in my dreams too. sometimes the buildings are very strange, lovely, or oppresive. often memorable.

people actually do this. this makes me very happy.

warning

from a recent email i sent out:

Since I learned the hard way, I'll pass this along: don't take a walk in the rain while talking on your cellphone ;)

from kurt's reply:

you remind me of wisdom which you once shared with me, "if you can't be a
good example, at least be a horrible warning"

in honor of this beautiful grayness, i purchased a gray blanket/cloat and wore it as i walked along the cliffs:

just back from being away all weekend. just before leaving for chicago, i walked to the dumpster. a person was bouncing on the mattress set discarded there. she seemed a little crazy. i decided i needed to talk to her. apparently she was testing and had approved the mattresses and was eager to move them to her apartment. i couldn't help--was leaving, but we exchanged phone numbers in case she needed car help later.

tonight, upon returning, i called her. as the conversation develops, it turns out she just met a really fun guy who does contracting/carpentry/remodeling work around here. and she's going to try to set me up to talk to him about breaking into the business. cross your fingers for me :) i'll let you know how it develops.

irish breakfast

these scones were unbelievable. of course, i was not skimping on butter.

more pictures

click here...

irish trees

I had to do this in stages so today's topic is trees. Click here to see the pictures or here to see them as a slideshow (you can speed it up or stop it, too).

As many of you know, I am obsessed with trees and the qualities they embody. They speak to me of the human spirit questing for transcendence and union with God. Seeing a tree teaches me the attitude of prayer. Stand still, stretch upward. Recieve the sunshine.

Then there are the roots, the wonderful going deeper in search of water. No one else can see that inner quest.

I love the fact that each type of tree has its signature silhouette and branching style--the perfect union of math and art.

I loved the mythical quality of some of these--I'd never seen anything like them except in the murals in the elf houses Lord of the Rings. Others are shaped by persistent wind.

Tomorrow, pictures of another of my obsessions.

home again

hi! i'm back. i had a great trip, but i'm absolutely ecstatic to be home. i greet my neighbor with glee, the guy at the corner store says hi, how are you. i know the trees. i walk to the video store and the bakery and it's all familiar. there is such a bliss in that, i tell you.

i took about 500-600 pictures. i'm a little overwhelmed as to how to begin sharing. for now, this is from this evening, out my living room window. an astonishing sight.

preparation

time to pack. time to get on a plane. time for travel into the unknown. my first time to cross the atlantic. flying into the night and arriving with the dawn in a new country where at least some of my ancestry lies. i've done the research, made a car rental. gathered a pile of books to read, and an empty journal. now it's time to just experience what unfolds--rain or wind, solitude or serendipitous encounters, pubs or open spaces.

i don't really feel mentally prepared, or even excited yet. i'm still quite anxious. let me pack my bags, then perhaps i'll feel ready.

joy

...and peace.

solitary saturday

a walk in the rain last night (while talking on the phone) was nice. a dead phone this morning, and finding that i need to buy a new one is not so nice.

in the solitude that this situation has granted me, i am organizing my photo files and working on getting some photos framed (getting the glass spotless is hard!).

this photo was taken in a friend's kitchen (anybody recognize it?). more to come.

one day left

one day of school left. things are going really well, except for the dream last night which contained nightmares about my test being wayyyy too hard for the students (and them rebelling), and a swirly amazing visual of clouds in the most amazing tempest, running towards us as we watched in fear and fascination. as a result, i'm up before 5.

this photo was taken out the window of a taxi in lima, peru. for some reason, i love it.

timmie

at the corner deli, a guy with a reflective vest is loading up on snacks. i ask, and sure enough, he's gearing up for an all-night 14 hour shift working construction on route 18.

"stay in school", he says, with a look that conveys the fatigue, long, cold hours, and hard work.

"i'm done with school", i say. "i've got the cushy job, teaching, but i'm sick of it." (feeling like a spoiled brat, complaining...)

in the parking lot i pass him on my way out to the car. he's in a huge truck. as i walk by, he asks "do your students act up in class?"

"yeah." i guess he realized we have something in common.

"i'm over 60 men, and they don't behave either. they don't give me any respect."

wow. i just don't find that suprising at all. but it would suck majorly to have to be in charge of them. the guy looks really tired, lines under his eyes.

"do you hate your job?" i ask.

"yeah, i do.... what do you think is wrong with young people today?"

uhhh..."i think once people stopped believing in god, nothing matters anymore."

"yeah, they need to start going to church again."

"well, i don't go to church, but i believe in god. it means that things happen for a reason, there is a reason for everything."

as i walk away, he calls after me, "say a prayer for me."

i turn and face him. "i will."

"my name is timmie."

"ok timmie. good night."

i walk slowly back to my car. i vow to say a prayer for all the timmies trapped in soul-destroying jobs, but especially this one.

sunday

i had a rather nightmarish morning with a sick feeling in my stomach that the trip to ireland would be a disaster & all would fail and i'd hide in the airport.

cracked eggs into a frying pan, got one whose white was greenish tinged. more evidence.

having a pleasant roommate is helpful when this darkness descends. sometimes all you need is another human to say normal, unremarkable yet sane things. i'm glad i have her.

tried going to a church service, but it was too hyper and praise and hip. i prefer small groups, living room-sized. however, only the pastor seemed over the top. the audience seemed normal & cool. the entire congregation were young adults. i was recommended this place as a cure for my single blues.

i bought a yellow raincoat for ireland. i bought frames & hung 4 prints in my place. i'm pleased with how they look. i bought some christmas presents and am starting to conjure up some christmas spirit.

friday evening

from my life today

a verse

Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow. (James 1:17)

progress report

signed up for ceramics this spring. what i really need is practice. the fact that i can have unlimited use of the kiln and the glazes for the teeny tiny price tag of $100 for the entire semester is unbelievable [faculty tuition waver rocks!]. my only cost is clay.

i want to work on finding a style, a groove. then maybe one day, one day, i can try to sell some at a coffee shop or art fair. i don't feel like i will ever achieve flawless wheel technique. i don't really want to either--i'm too impatient. i'd rather work on it meditatively but embrace the imperfection.

as far as the search, the quest...

there are classes i'd like to take next summer in building skills. after my sister is successfully hitched, i may dive headfirst into that. i'm not sure exactly where that is heading--making tables, a log-cabin, or what. but when i discovered this place in vermont, i was enthralled and relieved. someone understands this urge...and they've got it right.





there are all these other things...philosophy...father l. gave me a course on cd about the history of ethics...and it's great...it's opened up a lot for me. i need to crack some books but for now it keeps rolling through my mind as i drive.

photography--i ordered prints of some of my good photos to see how good they looked in large format. i almost never order prints--high time that changed.

i'm debating with myself whether to give hitchhiking a try while in ireland. the car rental is unbelievably expensive. i could spent $300-$800 depending. i know, it's going to be cold, rainy, and hitchhiking is dangerous. but....but...it just sounds so real, so authentic...so in touch with the actual reality of the place.

my cooking revolution and fried eggplant

At the end of the summer I spent some time reading an italian cookbook that has significantly changed the way I think about food. It taught me that good food doesn't have to be complicated--in fact, complicated gets in the way of experiencing nature's gifts the way they were created.

Never being a person to embrace the middle ground, I went to my fridge and took out everything (well almost--i saved the ketchup and the chocolate ice-cream syrup for old-times sake) that had ingredients i couldn't decipher. No more fake modified starches, preservatives, blah blah into my body. This makes shopping for insta-food basically impossible. All the snack foods and pre-packaged meals are full of this stuff.

So--I cook more. But the recipes I cook are simpler. I started keeping track of some good recipes on another blog. It's "eating simply", and it's linked at right.

Anyway, Viana LaPlace's "Unplugged Kitchen" changed my thinking on a whole lot more than just cooking--she presented a vision to me of a more old fashioned, slow, sensual way of preparing and enjoying food.

Fried Eggplant:

some bread got stale: I food processed it into crumbs. If that's too over the top for you, just buy some crumbs. But FYI--check how many incomprehensible ingredients are listed.

-wash an eggplant.
-cut 1/2 inch thick slices.
-beat 2 eggs into a bowl with a fork.
-put crumbs, spices, salt, and pepper into another bowl. (suggested spices: oregano, sage, thyme--i really had no idea...)
-put olive oil into a frying pan & heat (but not too hot--don't let it smoke)
-dip slices into egg, coating both sides, then into crumb mixture, coating both sides.
-put in the pan.
-turn after a bit. don't burn them (like i did).
-when the outside of the slice is crisp and the inside seems soft when tested with a fork, or when the slice is cooked golden brown, put the slice on a plate w/ a napkin for the grease. you get to eat greasy today.
-let the slices cool, don't burn your tongue (like i did).
-use the slices to make an eggplant sandwich for school the next day. mmmm. or a midnight snack.

mmm...

saturday in new york

i went with a new friend to the japan society (a block away from the UN, and across the street from dag hammarskjold park) to see this ceramics exhibit. it was fabulous. apparently japan is the new ceramics center. there was a lot of that was not only genius, but i actually really liked it. highly recommended. admission $10.

The Humpbacks

Listen, whatever it is you try
to do with your life, nothing will ever dazzle you
like the dreams of your body,

its spirit
longing to fly while the dead-weight bones

toss their dark mane and hurry
back into the fields of glittering fire

where everything,
even the great whale,
throbs with song.
- Mary Oliver
[via Whiskey River]

characteristics of truth...

so...what's your experience...how do you sense when you've found some?

a burst of joy?
deep peace?


how about this:
truth unifies...it unifies formerly disparate areas of your life. it unites people. it brings ideas together into a grander whole. rather than contradicting pieces floating around in your mind, there is a simpler overarching vision.

truth gives me permission to hope: for resolution to the conflict in my head.

what a lovely thing.

the truth sets you free.

Ars Poetica

I've always loved this poem.

A poem should be palpable and mute
As a globed fruit

Dumb
As old medallions to the thumb

Silent as the sleeve-worn stone
Of casement ledges where the moss has grown -

A poem should be wordless
As the flight of birds

A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs

Leaving, as the moon releases
Twig by twig the night-entangled trees,

Leaving, as the moon behind the winter leaves,
Memory by memory the mind -

A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs

A poem should be equal to:
Not true

For all the history of grief
An empty doorway and a maple leaf

For love
The leaning grasses and two lights above the sea -

A poem should not mean
But be.

--Archibald MacLeish

mindfulness

i found this picture and named it "engrossed" as i saved it in my inspiration folder.


i came across this on another blog and have been contemplating it:

Conscious faith is freedom.
Instinctive faith is slavery.
Mechanical faith is madness.

Conscious hope is strength.
Emotional hope is cowardice.
Mechanical hope is sickness.

Conscious love arouses love.
Emotional love arouses mistrust.
Mechanical love arouses hate.

the past few years i have learned the power of intuition. but there is a fine line between calling on intuition and being ruled by emotion/feelings. conscious and mindful choosing: freedom, strength, love. this is what i desire for myself.

my take

the net effect of the international interwoven plots in the movie babel was crushing. iñarritu directed amorres perros, also intense, but for some reason it didn't suffocate me with helpless despair in quite the same way. i realized 2/3 of the way through that most of the tragedies occurring (as the audience tensely gets quieter) are a result of men being bull-headed, arrogant, thoughtless, drunk, or heroic.

i don't believe it's that way in real life. we women create our own special brand of tragedy. but in this movie it was just the men. i wonder what that says about the director's outlook on the world.

at last

a [fragile] vision emerges.

this week's events

-last night a coworker (we went on the orleans trip together) caught me going to class and said "mahatma ghandi's grandson is speaking here at 7:30". turns out it was a broadcast of a speech in kansas or something, but it was cool. "lessons learned from my grandfather"

-i've been thinking: if we could study how lebanon got peace after the 80's, we might have a clue how to begin to travel towards peace in iraq. ghandi spoke of something he thought might work: a council consisting of representatives--one from each ethnic group--headed up by a chairperson appointed by the u.n. he said that iraq is not ready for traditional democratically elected leadership yet.

-walking at night i saw what appeared to be two notebooks lying in the road. they were 2007 agendas, with month style layout. father. l. & i both like these--on the day we met we discovered we had the exact same agendas--so now we have the same agendas every year. this time, for free, found waiting in the street.

-i wrote a table of contents for a math textbook. it's been in my head for a while. don't know if i want to write it or not.

heavy weight championship

when i saw this posted in a doorway in arequipa, i started to laugh and took out my camera. a very helpful young man asked me if i would like a poster, and started to get me one. i said thank you very much, but i probably wouldn't hang this on my wall.

the names of the fighters are great: steel, black assasin, the crazy one from the plains

my gripe

perhaps there are two purposes to education:
-you need this for your life. this will help you as you navigate life.
-this is to make you a cultured person. you may not need it but it is beautiful and significant.

i feel like the majority of the mathematics i teach lies in a lukewarm, murky puddle between the rushing, vibrant, ever-changing stream of today's numbers, and the icy crystals (more beautiful yet upon magnification) of pure math.

i think i could be happy with either extreme. but this middle ground that at times masquerades as useful and other times as beautiful (and is mostly neither) just irritates me and bores my students.

there have been many situations where mysteriously beautiful mathematics has been discovered (years later) to have an amazing and unexpected application.

however when textbooks take a topic that has traditionally (for more than a century) been a part of the curriculum, and force an application to it, the laughably contrived "examples" that result are downright embarassing to the teacher. she has no choice but to skip over them, or to tell the students she thinks they are silly.

can math education ever change? i just had an idea driving home tonight of writing a book which shows a traditional approach to a topic on one page and contrasts it on a facing page with what might be so much more interesting, useful, or beautiful.

but stories about how many nickels and dimes Susie has! or perfectly parabolic supply and demand functions? please!!

monday afternoon

it's a fabulous dreary day. perfect in every way. my windows are cracked, and candles burning. i'd take a walk but my body is completely exhausted. the quality of light, the smell of leaves, the slight drizzle on the glass.

i want to write a few things before i fall asleep (at 4:20 pm).

yesterday i was in montreal. the day began in the lovely breakfast shop--i was so happy that i understood the waiter's question "quel qu' chose a boire?" and could say "un cafe". the music was spectacular and i sat alone and drank coffee, watched the rain. this november is fabulous for rain.

i drove slowly home, enjoying the scenery after i finally conquered the montreal highways. they kept conspiring to keep me driving endlessly in circles, exiting at the wrong places and saying bad words in my complete befuddlement. i was truly amazed at my ability to get distracted right at the moment when my last chance exit was at hand, and then cruise blissfully and with great expectations into the country side before becoming suspicious that i'd missed something. french teeny-boppers at the gas station weren't much help.

upstate new york is lovely, especially in the fog. i decided to see what the back roads looked like. i guess i'd had the exact same urge about a year ago while driving the same route...and saw the restaurant "the black bear" or something like that--that i ate at last time.

continuing, i followed signs deep into the boonies that promised "fawn ridge pottery". at one point, the road became a one lane deal and as it forked left, i saw a horse with its reins dragging on the ground crossing the other fork. the man carrying a bucket across a yard didn't seem to notice.

since one of my fantasies is living far from civilization and being a potter, i was eager, yet shy, to chat up whoever was at this place. if it was open. well, it was, and the owner & potter was very friendly.

he gave me a tour of his studio, gave me a little advice, and told me that a kiln costs about $2000 but the electric bills aren't prohibitive. he said my best bet is to get lots of experience and since I have access to the studio at school i've got a great situation. he & his wife gave ski lessons to pay the bills while they got their studio off the ground.

then he mentioned that he'd apprenticed with another local potter, and sent me over to red truck pottery. i was welcomed into and liked the large, warm workroom with jade plants, classical music at full volume, and a quiet, intelligent dog at the door. bill fixed a pottery wheel as we chatted a bit. what i recall that he said is that there's plenty of boredom in his job too--the items that pay the bills aren't the ones that require great creativity, but the ones that are ordered by the 1000's that are cranked out mindlessly. i could see that this guy's work was wonderful. he had some interesting metallic oxides decorating some of his pots. i did one thing like that and really liked the effect. his was brilliant, though. a real master.

i asked him if it was a lonely job, and he said yes. it's also long hours, and you have to do what needs doing when the clay is ready, and not necessarily when you are.

i could have purchased the newly repaired wheel for $700, but instead i think i'll get involved at the studio at school or the one a few blocks from my place. he advised me to volunteer help with the firings at school to get experience with that. i asked if he studied chemistry to help him understand the science of glazes and oxides...he said he'd studied it but it didn't really help, as there are way too many variables involved. apparently he even uses some materials he digs out of the ground--he doesn't really even know what it is.

after all these excursions, it was nearly dark as i pulled back onto the highway. the coffee i picked up later to help my droopy eyes unfortunately had the effect of not letting me sleep much last night even though my body was collapsing with fatigue. instead my mind whirled with ideas for my new coffee shop. like a. suggests, i can make mugs and offer them for sale. my yellow sofa can live in the shop, along with my stylish retro red chairs, since i'll be living in a tiny little room to try to get by. then my brain informed me that i'll have a chalkboard on which my regulars can make requests for the daily bakings--which will be done twice a day. a few loaves of buttered fresh bread, oozing chocolate chip cookies. oh, and i'll bring back real organic chocolate from peru or somewhere. joel has already offered to make sure i have a fabulous selection of music appropriate for every mood. paintings and framed photography for sale on the walls.

i'm still committment phobic. i'm still scared of making a mistake. does the fact that i can SEE what is wrong with math education mean that i'm the one that needs to stick around and make changes? because it's so completely wrong that it would probably take YEARS for me to be even remotely happy with the curriculum, at least at my school. it's SO wrong right now.

is it bad that i just don't want to deal with it any more?

is it bad that i want to dedicate myself to beauty and comfort?

despite my attitude, and the fact that hours before heading into teach today, i contacted an ecolodge in remote ecuador that wants a live-in manager...i had a great day teaching. grrrr....so freakin' confusing. i had FUN. and the students were into it. wtf?

off to montreal for a very short weekend. must sleep, pack, shower, get some audio books, and FLY. on the road, i mean.

rainy day joy

hard to believe...

..but i'm going...to the west coast of ireland, for 11 days, over christmas vacation. wow. uncharted territory. in a way, much more of an adventure than south america treks. i have no idea what this will be like.

i am planning long walks and lots of reading. time alone. i've been thinking that i needed to take a vacation for myself and by myself...so i guess this is it! i'm grateful.

what i could be

some ideas:
mechanic
coffee shop owner
professional organizer
house builder (alternative, environmentally friendly only)
ceramic artist/creator of bowls and cups
importer of handcrafts
owner of a hostel in south america
vagabond with philosophy & novels in backpack

scratched:
math textbook author
math teacher
do math in industry
go back to school to get a ph.d. in math
psychologist/therapist
the bureaucracy
traffic & commuting

we went to see matthew kelly, the author of a great "how to fix your life" book. however, we were disappointed. has he sold out? is he in the speaking circuit just for the money, just as a job? is he saying the same words he's said thousands of times? he seemed tired, and overweight.

i'm glad i didn't go alone. i'm glad m. & i were in agreement in our reactions to his talk. i'm also glad i went. living the dream isn't easy--sometimes you get off track.

handcraft

once upon a time, almost everyone was an artist. the butcher (ok, maybe not him), the baker, and the candlestick maker. the shoemaker, the tailor, the cheese maker.

maybe one reason many of us are so dissatisfied with our jobs is because man's task is now to manage machines that perform tasks that should have been ours.

once upon a time, i could have made bowls for a living. there was a village and a village musician.

even education seems like an assembly line process--no creativity left in it.

well, mike is brilliant at what he does. and it gives me great joy to know he is doing his thing in the classroom.

yesterday we made homemade bread and then created art together.



and today, it is time for me to work with my hands presenting the laws of exponents to my students.

it was great to have bethy spend the weekend with me. as i told her, it was the best possible way i could have chosen to celebrate my birthday. mmm! thank you for coming, little sister!

la verace via

-after listening to my oreja cd a bazillion times i finally decode this lyric:
"Lo que hace bello al desierto es que guarda agua en su interior."
which today i can take to mean that sometimes things must be kept to ones self.

-last night i translated micro-loan documents & sent them to alex
-i found cheap tickets both to ireland and peru for next year
-today i checked 8 books out of the library in a whirlwind of whimsy & curiosity
-instead of grading i'm going to curl up with hot chocolate and this book, which i have a very good feeling about:



p.s. i turn 30 on oct. 31. if you feel compelled to look at my wishlist, it is here.

tuesday

bleakness has come over me. i don't feel optimism in any direction.

dreams are fragile things. when you express a hope, and someone counsels you: "well, you know, you would probably still feel frustrated even if you __________________ [moved elsewhere, found a different job, met a significant other]."

not to mention that getting any of these things seems so elusive anyway!

is the message to simply accept a dissatisfactory existence and not go for better?

this is not the full source of my melancholy. other things make me paranoid--has something shifted? have the planets aligned themselves so that i am now entering a dark phase? did i bring upon myself a double dose of 'the shadow'? it's this vague unease. i don't feel free to love generously, and when you withdraw that generosity, that hope, things change in your heart.

i don't like being superstitious. i hope this passes.

waiting

this photo brings back memories of my very happy days in arequipa. there was something magical about walking the streets alone, aimlessly, with no pressure or obligations. looking through them again i see many more great shots i'd forgotten about. i'll be posting them.

i was supposed to go visit b. today, but the forces of traffic at the holland tunnel and no cash when i tried to park at metropark to catch a train later, overcame me and i ended up staying home, reading, thinking, journalling, making fried potato pancakes, and now drinking decaf. still thinking. i can only call this my midlife crisis in full swing.


Maybe i just don't believe in the educational system any more. But if that's what we're stuck with, is it better to leave it or to try to work within its flawed structure? I feel stifled by the requirements put on me by it. I feel like a pawn of a system that I don't believe in.

I want to drop out of the system.

Questions (from It's Only Too Late If You Don't Start Now)
Where am I going?
Did I do the right thing with my time so far?
What's ahead?
What are my greatest fears?
Why do I really want in my future?
What do I definitely not want any more of?
What regrets would I hate to have when I look back on my life in later years?
Why am I on this planet?

-I'm not going to do anyone any good if I'm not doing what my heart of hearts wants.

"It is from our parents that we learn how to think for ourselves or how not to, how to have relationships or how not to, and how to succeed or how to live a life of "quiet desperation"...The main injunctions...tend to come from one of the parents, and the parent of the opposite sex is often the source. The parent of the same sex then teaches the youngster how to comply with these injunctions and attributions."
--from Do What You Love, The Money Will Follow

as you can see i'm reading all the 'fix your life' books i can get my hands on. some of them seem directed at bored 40 year old men who are married and work in a cubicle. it doesn't really matter. i'm turning thirty and i want freedom and a different life.

thursday

i've really enjoyed the daily prayer on this site yesterday and today.

today is the first day that i get to teach in the "smart" classrooms, with a computer & projector for the computer. i'm hoping i'm able to find things online to make class more engaging & colorful.

i think i'll show them the trailer for the movie flatland.

also, even though our class is stuck in 2 dimensions finding where two lines intersect, i spoke to them the other day about finding where planes intersect, in three dimensions.

i think they could even do this algebraically. mmm. i feel some life in my veins.

my job is making me feel very middle-aged today. i want something more dramatic, intellectually engaging. today, i don't feel like making young adults pay attention while i explain long, complicated things (boring things) to them.

i say today because every day my mood seems to shift. but the unhappy voice is getting more and more insistent. i don't believe in what i do.

i want a free-thinking, unstructured artist's job. perhaps in a foreign country.

or i want a high-tech, brainiac brilliance job. very glamourous.

oh....the conflict! do i quit or no?

stuff

friday night i had dinner with my favorite (and only) priest friend. he mentioned that his brother has a house on the west coast of ireland which is not used very much, especially in the winter. he suggested that it might be an ideal place for a solitary reading & thinking escape. he mentioned rough weather, walks on beaches, and reading by the (peat) fire.

wow! i already looked at tickets. awesome!

_____________________

yesterday i decided to go to a town that i thought would have some fun artsy shops. i drove north about 45 minutes. wandered through an international bead shop, where i inquired about how they get their foreign merchandise. i avoided the used bookstore and went into an interior design shop instead, but ended up getting a book i've admired before online:



after eating dinner alone at a mexican restaurant that was quite full (and repeatedly convincing myself that it was ok that i was using a table by myself), i went to see the movie "the science of sleep" with gael garcia bernal, who starred as che guevara in motorcycle diaries. the movie was so poignantly human and honest, while quite funny and strange at the same time. it's been a while since i've seen such a vulnerable portrayal of the confusion that is our experience.

to round out the evening, i came back to my car and realized the battery was almost dead, and the engine wouldn't start. the cold evening and my low gas tank together were what did it. i'm not sure why low gas makes my car struggle to start, but it does. so...i eventually got a guy to stop and help...fortunately his battery was located in his trunk, because i was parked on the street and pulling up nose to nose with my car was a logistical problem. i've never heard of a battery in the trunk before, either.

i drove home and slept well.

----------------------------------

i spent a lot of time today looking for fun math things online to use in my classes which as of this coming week are moving to rooms equipped with a computer and a big projector and internet access.

mixed success.

then i started looking for things to use tomorrow night at grad group with the catholics. they were at a loss for a topic, and i mentioned that i'd been really excited by my discovery of the euthyphro by Plato. so i guess i'm 'leading' a discussion on that and faith and reason. i'm also going to photocopy excerpts of the pope's controversial speech and a little bit out of the catechism, and maybe some m. scott peck. i love weaving bits together. i have no idea how it will go over.

finally, tonight, after intervarsity (non-catholic) bible study, beer and a stromboli and excited discourse about the gospels with tony.

though i seem to be coming down with something, i feel full of surprises and blessings.

this week

sometimes we have experiences that bring our shortcomings right up to our noses, unavoidably in our faces. no escaping, and they are smelly, too.

it's so much nicer to live with the illusions about ourselves that we so carefully cultivate.

saturday

this poorly lit picture doesn't do it justice, but i find the image of a woman standing with such grandeur around her, and opening a book--so powerful. according the caption (i tore this out of the patagonia catalog & taped it by my bed) she is studying for an alpinism exam.

i'm exhausted--it was a full day. 4 of us drove up to a conference, then went for a hike in the fall woods. mongolian grill for supper, and home for a shower & hot tea. time with a good friend rounded out a long, but surprisingly balanced day.

i am foolish

1. decide to make chocolate milk at 11:40 pm.
2. don't make it in the microwave. make it on the stove, with the really good mexican chocolate bars.
3. leave it cooking on high for about 40 minutes.
4. be in your room with the door closed, blissfully updating your online planner & feeling really accomplished and organized
5. catch a whiff of a foul black smell, and have a lightbulb moment
6. dash into the kitchen, which is thick with black smoke, and turn off the burner
7. open all the windows in the house, wishing like mad for a howling gale.
8. hope the roommate is already asleep, so she won't find out how dumb you are.
9. realize you have no fan, and the smoke is not leaving.
10. realize that when she goes to the bathroom in the night, she will think the building is burning.
11. feel relief when you realize she is still awake. borrow a fan. explain your stupidity.
12. go to bed.
13. wake in the morning to the lingering wretched smell still there.
14. attempt to clean stove top & chip black carbon chuncks out of the pan
15. while scrubbing & chipping vigorously with a fork, get a carbon particle in your eye.
16. slosh big glasses of water into your eye, moan, slosh more, hold your eyelid up, cry, look in mirror, slosh some more, pray, cry.
17. call mom because i am utterly wretched.
18. go to the doctor and get numbing drops & find out the offending black particle is now gone.
19. come home. feel utterly exhausted. and relieved.
20. vow NEVER to leave the kitchen while something is cooking, EVER.