Loitering on the Cosmic Ramp

Big Sister and Cousin G have arrived! For the next few days it's going to be Art Camp -- culminating in an art show on Tuesday afternoon before they fly out -- showcasing all of their work.

Today the project was felting. The Girl made a sleeping fox. The Boy started a zombie baby and Cousin G started a zombie duck, but both turned their attention to making "Science of the Sea Museum" badges and pirate eye-patches... and then scampered off to discuss their plans for said Science of the Sea Museum which they are planning on bringing to fruition "in ten or eleven years." 

I was a titch concerned that The Boy had abandoned the felting "class" rather early, but as Big Sister pointed out, the boys are having fun playing together (they were born less than two months apart, but sadly live almost three thousands miles apart), and she had fun having one-on-one with The Girl (who idolizes her aunt's creativity and mad art skills). 

After felting we went the Museum of Natural History and wandered around. Spur of the moment we decided to go into the Big Bang presentation and I kept going off about how we never do it because it's "too startling." Boy did I make it an anti-climatic experience for everybody. The big bang was more like a ffffffffffttt. It dawned on me that it was startling only because my kids were like five and three the last time we did it. Must make a mental note to not hold on to any opinions that might have been formed too early. 

While walking down the cosmic ramp after the presentation the boys got ahead of us and then stopped to wait. Judd the Red Chicken leaned his back and bent elbows on the handrail and slouched. 

"What? Are you like the tough guy of the cosmic ramp?" Me
"[Cousin G] did that one time by the car and when I asked him what he was doing he answered, 'loitering.'" Big Sister

We decided that "Loitering on the Cosmic Ramp" would make a brilliant title for something... Sadly this blog post might be as far as it gets -- big bang vs. ffffffffttt. 

Missing Dog

In NYC, if it's on the sidewalk it's yours for the taking. I have a piercing regret: walking past this headless dog about three years ago and not taking him home. It was about twenty blocks from our apartment and at the height of the bedbug bedlam, and yet every time I see these pictures I know that he was sitting and waiting for me. I think about that dog weekly, if not daily. He was a gift for me, and like him, I could not see. 

I rarely regret things that happen -- or don't happen -- in life. The waves of disappointment can be ridden; the wrinkles of lost opportunities can be smoothed by the belief that new opportunities will present. I'm a believer of: "things happen for a purpose." Except. Except when it comes to my parenting. I regret not being more cheerful. I regret not being more fun. I regret getting screachy over something stupid. I regret saying something in a mean tone. I regret not giving more choices. I regret losing the eternal perspective. I regret caring what other people think. I regret not being more patient. I regret not being more creative. I regret not spending more time. I regret I can't be more perky like Mom A. I regret that I can't be more efficient and calm like Mom B. 

I don't know what to do with this. 

I wish that I had that dog. I know that he would soothe me when I feel sad about being snippy with the offspring. I see myself: doing the rounds at night -- looking in on sleeping faces and feeling that pang that comes to see them so innocent, and yet getting so long in their beds. Wondering what kind of monster yells at such precious beings. Wondering if what I'm doing is so all-wrong that they'll never be able to reach their potential, and end up sad and wasted adults. I would pad out of their room, prepare a cup of herbal tea with honey, and then sit and stroke his not-head and feel like all would be well, that somehow even things that aren't perfect, can still be wonderful and whole. 

If You're Going to Homeschool, Attend Good Concerts

Today had some very jagged moments. My heart got sucker punched watching a social interaction between my naive and quirky boy and two ultra-cool older boys. Later at home there was a screaming match refereed by the Math Demon (not to be confused with Matt Damon). 

I was invited to a Lyric concert tonight. Getting myself pulled together and out the door was about the last thing that I felt like doing. But I went. Walking over with my friend I found out that she had had a junky day, too, but she was convinced that the concert would be good for us. The level of virtuosity was mesmerizing, so, as my friend predicted, it did what  art does -- it elevated me. Out of the darkness of the day, the music pulled out a pin-point of light that happened this morning: I was ironing, The Boy was sitting on the floor reading, and I recalled something that I had heard recently:

"Out of curiosity, if somebody asked you what three words your parents would use to describe you, what would you answer?" Me
"I. Love. You." Him

He might not be as socially savvy as other kids, but he's an original, and he has a sweet heart.

Happy Valentine's Eve. 

WWAD

We are still reading To Kill a Mockingbird. My southern accent slows us up a bit. When I first read it, as a girl living in a household with just a sister and single mom, Scout was the character I most identified with and considered the heart of book. When I read it as a fairly new mom with a boy, unexpectedly Jem stood out as the silent hero of the story. Now, as a parent of elementary-aged children who are becoming aware of the intricacies of life and their place in it, it is Atticus and his sureness, calmness, humor, and integrity that pulls my attention. I want to get a WWAD bracelet -- What Would Atticus Do? 

P.S. It says in the book that Atticus was homeschooled.  How 'bout that?

Materials for a Free Writing Workshop

The writing workshops are going well. Again, I am impressed with the level of smarts and respect and cleverness. The Sister sat in on the one for teens today and after, when we were sharing our observations, I mentioned to her that I've been in college workshops that weren't as insightful. Many moons ago, as a fresh-faced 13-year old babysitter I was told by a three-year old client, who must have thought a statement of mine carried facetious-intent, "Smarty had a party and nobody came." For the record: I would go to parties held by these smarties. They are going places, and it makes me feel proud that our lives intersected in this way. That is what keeps teachers teaching. 

Teaching the workshop is interesting because I'm keenly aware of the different backgrounds and philosophies that come with homeschooling. To that end, I've structured the class very loose. It's rather refreshing that I'm being asked if they can turn in extra, rather than being asked to articulate the exact bare-mimum that is required. There's something to this whole: let them choose to learn/follow their passions business. It's inspiring to see it in action. 

Again, this is a loosey-goosey, very casual thing, but here's most of the "syllabus":

Welcome to our creative writing workshop. Learning how to workshop is a skill that will help you across many disciplines, as we focus on: careful reading/listening, analyzing material (word choice, placement, effectiveness of details, etc.), communicating ideas/observations/suggestions in a specific/effective manner, and learning the importance of REVISION. Of course, we will also talk about the craft of creative writing.

Schedule:

2/4:    Bring your creative introduction/learn the wily ways of workshopping

2/11:  Assignment #1 -- Group A will bring 6 copies; Group B will bring 1 copy

NOTE: No class on 2/18

2/25:  Assignment #2 -- Group A will bring 1 copy; Group B will bring 6 copies

3/4:    Assignment #3 -- Group A will bring 6 copies; Group B will bring 1 copy

3/11:  Assignment #4 -- Group A will bring 1 copy; Group B will bring 6 copies

3/18:  Assignment #5 -- choice of bringing copies to workshop, or turn in copy to me for feedback (I will mail it back to you)

The assignments:

At the beginning of each workshop we will have a mini-lesson regarding the craft of writing.  We will then workshop the pieces that are scheduled for the day and have spontaneous mini-lessons throughout the discussion.  At the end of each workshop I will give an "assignment suggestion."  You are welcome to accept that suggestion, or not.  What is important is that you bring a new piece of writing to every workshop (five total).  

Assignments should be typed.  Your pieces being workshopped should be no longer than two pages, but there is no page limit to the pieces that you turn into me (within reason – no novels, please).  Please remember to bring ____ copies on the day that you workshop.

After you receive feedback from the workshop, or from me, you are welcome to revise the piece and turn it in to me again for additional feedback (this just depends on how much you/your family want to get out of the class... there is no expectation on my end).  Please bring hardcopies (i.e. printed on paper) for the five assignments.  If you are getting additional feedback from me on a revised piece you can either bring a printed copy or email me.

The portfolio:

This is for you, so you can do with it what you like. Here’s my suggestion for what you should have in it/how you should organize it: for each assignment have a) the assignment (either the one that I give you, or an explanation of what your goal was before you began writing) b) your rough draft that you do at home c) the draft that you turn in to me/bring to the workshop – NOTICE that this is different than the one that you first push out – see “Revision Process” below d) a draft with the suggestions that you were given from me/the workshop/yourself as you were reading e) your “final” draft – what you revise the piece into AFTER getting feedback from me/the workshop f) any additional drafts that you decide to do. NOTE: I won’t see draft e or f unless you choose to pass it along to me.

Revision Process:

How should the revision process work for anything that you write?  Here’s a very general prescription:

1.  Pre-writing: clusters, lists, sitting at the computer and typing whatever comes to mind, diagrams, jogging in the park and thinking, whatever.

2.  Draft #1: this is giving it your best shot without being too, too concerned. Some people refer to this as the “cruddy draft” – there is no expectation here except to get some ideas on the paper.  Don’t be overly concerned with being awesome, or being right, or even making sense.

3.  Draft #2: take your cruddy draft and do your very best to mold it into something awesome – without TOO much stress.  Look for threads/themes that might have appeared magically that you can now do more with, ask yourself what the most important idea is and if it’s there, read it aloud to yourself and see if it works, reorganize lines/paragraphs to see if the weight/placement works better, etc.  Edit – look for grammar issues (use a handbook or online if you have questions with commas, vocabulary, etc.).

4.  Get feedback.  This can be a workshop/comments from an instructor or writing center/a friend or family member

5.  Consider all the feedback and look at the draft again.  Often folks get lazy here and just incorporate a few of the suggestions.  That isn’t what’s really supposed to happen.  The suggestions are supposed to spark new/better/more unique ideas within you.  You should revise at this point with great intent to change things up.

Remember this: don’t be afraid to revise.  The “extra work” will always pay off.  Learning to consider/analyze/rework your writing (the process) is as important as the product.  In other words, even if you end up having four drafts of something, and at the end of the day you think that the second draft was actually closest to “the best,” drafts three and four were not a waste of time because you inevitably grew as a writer.  As writers you always get to keep those earlier drafts, so since nothing is ever lost feel free to experiment and stretch.  

The first assignment suggestion:

Creative writing is largely about zeroing in on small details that represent something universal. It is about taking real life and creating something “fake” to better understand real life.  Kind of cool, kind of kooky, but there it is.

Find a place to hang out and observe somebody that you don’t know.  Observe closely and take note of small, unique details.  Pretend that you’re Sherlock Holmes and make inferences out of those details.  For example, if the man that you’re watching wears his watch on his right wrist you can infer that he’s left-handed.  Is he left-handed naturally, or as a kid did he think that it would be cool to be left-handed, so he taught himself to be a lefty?  Once you have a pile of inferences write a fictitious biography.  Consider tone: do you want it to be funny? mysterious? journalistic (just the [fake] facts, ma’am)? After you decide on your tone think about what words best support that tone.

A final thought: after you do that first “cruddy draft” look it over and ask yourself: what does (or could) this description say about mankind in general?  Pondering that will help you as you write that next draft that you’ll bring for workshop (see “Revision Process” on your syllabus).

Their second assignment suggestion:

Similes are like petals that float in April – they are subtle and represent a shift from harsh forces to gentle movement.

Metaphors are oxygen tanks, allowing us to diver deeper, stay submerged longer, see more.

Similes and metaphors help us describe something in a way that is unique, and so hopefully closer to your reality that you're trying to share with the reader than tired words/descriptions that have lost meaning from over-use.

Your assignment is to write a poem about New York City.  A city that has been written about over and over and over and over again, and yet, when we meet again, you will have written something entirely new.  You will do that by creating original similes and metaphors. 

Here’s a suggested format:

A metaphor about what the city looks like (four lines).

A simile about what the city smells like (three lines).

A metaphor about what the city sounds like (four lines).

A simile about what the city feels like (three lines).

In a very general way, by the time you’ve finished you will have created a sonnet.  We will talk more about sonnets in the next class (just for kicks – not to bore the crud out of you… I’ll do that some other way…).