Life has been feeling a bit cluttered lately. A plethora of things are vying for my attention, and filling my to-do ta-da list. Still others are disturbing the peace of my physical space.

So, I breathe, try to do one thing at a time, and begin to tackle the things in my physical space. A vivid mental image of me literally tackling the stacks of things — knocking them to the ground in a feat of physical prowess and dominance, is wildly satisfying and amusing.

As I recycle, donate, and trash the things I no longer need or enjoy, I flip through many notebooks. In one, I find this sweet treat. I’m pretty sure I did it as I waited for a doctor, or got some sort of infusion.

It was a much needed reminder — from me to me — and as I looked at it, I thought, “I should take that out and put it somewhere I’d see it more often.” Funny enough, even as I was thinking what a great idea that was, I was also thinking, “Take it out? Are you nuts?”

I cannot exactly explain why I was thinking — or perhaps more accurately feeling — that angst. It didn’t make that much sense to my brain, but none-the-less the feeling was strong. I think it has to do with a fear of wrecking the piece, or making it less, or somehow lessening its value and impact for me.

I thought of several things I might do with it — including pasting it in my daily art affirmation and positivity journal. Still reluctant to rip it out, I instead ripped out a blank sheet as a template. I measured, thought, placed, and looked. I repeated the process many times. Finally I realized there were no rules that stated I had to make art in only one day’s space. It is my journal, my creation. I could place the piece wherever I wanted — even centering it over two days.

I considered adding washi tape on the top and bottom border, but couldn’t find it. So, I grabbed a colored pencil, and created my own washi-tape-esque border. I’m quite pleased with the result.

The washi-tape-esque border creating was meditative and zen-like. As I worked, my brain noticed, wondered, made connections and generated questions.

• Our learners may feel and express things that don’t seem to make any sense. That doesn’t mean they can, or should, stop feeling it because we think it is unwarranted. And just like with my feelings and thoughts, talking to make me want to do it any more. It’s important to remember that sometimes encouraging, reasoning, and/or requiring doesn’t help.
• Taking concrete steps helped! Making something — using my hands to think — enabled me to iterate, ideate, see new possibility, and create something new and even more impactful. I think an essential piece is that I used MY hands to think. I did the doing and the thinking.
• How might I be an effective thought partner with my learners?
• Taking the old art, and incorporating it into my life and art in a new way, required me to reexamine the old piece, find essential elements, and consider ways to incorporate these things on the new piece.
• How might I incorporate this type of art into my Kindergartners art making experiences?
• There’s so much to gain from this type of endeavor.
• What are the connections to student art, learning, doing, and thinking?
• How might I make help make these connections for and with my students?

I really like the truth that our ideas, art, thinking, writing, (perhaps everything) don’t need to be limited or confined to the original. They can be the fantabulous original, and they can also be fodder for something new and satisfying. Bringing forth something new is often — or is it always? — the purpose and power of ideas and creations. Sometimes the new is a feeling, an experience, or an understanding. Other times, it’s a new idea or creation. As I type, I’m asking myself, and you, if we will be ok when our new idea or thing requires the partial destruction of our original one. And, I’m wondering how we will help our students be ok when they are faced with the same situation.