Ok, have you listened to any episodes of Simon Sinek’s podcast – A Bit of Optimism? If you aren’t a regular listener, stop reading right now, go find it, and become a regular listener. It’s aMAZing! I want to be his friend, and his friends friend. I want to do his PR, be on his podcast, have him publish a book I write, or write one together, or go on tour together. (I’m laughing as I type this, but I’m also completely serious!)
During these times, we are all having to find new ways to connect. Join me every week as I talk with people that inspire me, about love, life, leadership and silver linings. The hope is that we all leave with something I think we need these days… A Bit of Optimism.
Yes, a thousand times, yes. We do need a bit of optimism these days, or I’ll just speak for myself. Yes, I definitely need a bit of optimism these days, and I’m finding it in these podcasts. But I want to go a step further and say, I have found more than optimism, I’ve found inspiration, affirmation, joy, and lots to think about. I will be blogging for sure.
Are you still reading? Stop. Go, and listen to a bit of optimism.
Teaching — of every kind — is all about design thinking. Teaching remotely while your Kindergarten students are in school? That’s a whole other level of design thinking!
Much like when I teach in person, I’m currently doing whole class, half class, and small group teaching. I’ve been teaching number sense lessons during math in small groups. Depending on how you look at it, it’s been: … a lesson in patience … an example of how remarkable these Kindergartners are or … the perfect illustration that design thinking is an essential element of teaching.
Take this week as an example. I wanted the mathematicians to join me in some math talks. They love to notice and share. So, it seemed like a great idea.
I populated a slide deck with some photos that allowed for all sorts of noticing. There’s tons of great photos online – just search for images for math talks. Or, make your own. You can group the items to encourage seeing in certain ways, or leave it completely free and see what they notice on their own.
I spent some time reflecting on the photos myself so I’d be prepared to join the conversation. My plan was to leave things very open. I hoped for something like this. … “I see shells and stones.” … “I see 4 small shells and 4 bigger shells.” … “Hey that’s 8 shells all together.” … “I see a cup with a tea bag in it.” … “I see a circle on the top of the mug and one on top of the glass. That’s 2 circles all together”
We noticed things. We did math. But, phew, it didn’t go as I hoped.
Other than math, here’s what happened. … My Kindergarten mathematicians were all over the place. (Note to self: it’s the last full week of school and their energy and excitement is, understandably, remarkably high.) … The technology didn’t work so well. Mathematicians were getting kicked off zoom. They couldn’t hear me, or I couldn’t hear them. … The other mathematicians and teachers in the room seemed quite loud to us on Zoom. … My patience, self awareness, and self regulation was quite low. … And, my quest for open ended discussion turned out to be a little too open ended.
So, I gathered my observations, thought about what my mathematicians and I, needed, re-considered the task and goals, and designed June Kindergarten Math Talk Iteration #2.
Day 2, iteration #2: Included: …. Fingers crossed for better wifi connection. … More patience from me. … More self awareness and self regulation for me. … More breathing for me and my mathematicians. … A request to colleagues to monitor the classroom volume level. … A new prompt – What MATH do you see?
We noticed things. We did math. And, things went a bit better.
The tech worked better. The class was quieter. I was calmer and happier — so were the Kindergarten mathematicians. But, they remained a bit distracted by the very technology that allows us to meet together. They adore writing on the screen and wanted to do it more — and it was tough to be patient and take turns. They love changing their names, and found it difficult to focus on math instead of surreptitiously changing their screen names.
Once again, I gathered my observations, reflected, pondered, and created the June Kindergarten Math Talk Iteration #3 — unless, of course, you count the many tiny changes I did on the fly. If you do, then consider this iteration #453.
Day 3, iteration #3 (#453) included: … Mathematicians come to group with whiteboard and marker. … I give mathematicians 2 minutes in the beginning of our session to change their names. Four of … us are now Miss James! … Same question – What math do you see? … Mathematicians take turns choosing a photo to examine. … Mathematician who chooses the photo, share her findings by writing on the screen. …. I stop share so other mathematicians can share their findings on their whiteboards. … Repeat for each mathematician.
We noticed things. We did math. We had fun. I didn’t have to do much classroom management.
I don’t have a day 4 or 5, but my mind is already iterating. I’m taking what worked, combining it in new ways, and being inspired to make changes that allow for remediation as well as enrichment. … Choose an image. Each mathematician finds and circles a particular quantity (2 eyes, 1 nose, … … etc). We all then use our whiteboards and various strategies to determine how many we have all … together. Then we share how we figured it out. … Same as above but I get to remove a quantity., or ask what is one more or one less. My mathematicians figure out the answer and share how they figured it out. … We choose a quantity and each mathematician shares a way they see it in the photo. … We all use the chat feature (I disable private chat) and they each write the quantity they see into … the chat box, but we don’t share it until we count to three, or to 10 by 2s, or to 20 by 5s.
Empathize. Define the problem. Ideate. Prototype. Test. Repeat/Iterate. It’s what we do as teachers. I love the d.school design thinking bootleg deck. It keeps me thinking, and reminds me of the remarkably deep design thinking I engage in as I teach.
Curiosity, courage, and creativity have been my constant companions these past few months. These three emotions, mindsets, and actions — they seem to be all three — help me survive and thrive with cancer; increase my experience of joy, awe, and wonder; and facilitate and strengthen my making and learning.
I’ve been making a lot of art lately. Perhaps because I have more time and opportunities for mindful engagement, I’ve had a uniquely fantabulous experience as I create. I seem to be able to watch myself make art — almost as though I were watching someone else. The closest I can get to explaining it is to say it’s like metacognition for art and creativity. I’m present, curious, and aware of what I’m doing, how I’m doing it, what I’m feeling, what I’m noticing, and what I’m thinking. I gotta say, it’s fascinating.
I’ve been primarily studying and playing with watercolor and various kinds of sketching. The other day I watched a tutorial video with Liz Steele over at Art Toolkit. Wow, she has a beautiful process and product. I’m fascinated by her use of watercolor to lay down structure, and her balance between precise thinking and loose relaxed lines and painting. Before I even finished the tutorial, I grabbed my watercolors, marker, and a black and white photo of a church I love, and set to work.
My curiosity — Would her method work for me? How will it go? How will I feel? Might I do that? Can I adopt her loose line method? Can watercolor really give me that structure? — combined with my love of making, gave me the courage to try.
Is it perfect? No. Was it fantabulous to try? Yes. Did I learn anything? Yes. Do I want to keep experimenting? Yes. Do I have more questions now than when I began? Indeed! Did I buy another journal to use for my urban and life sketching? You bet!
I’ve since subscribed to Liz’s blog, found Urban Sketchers, am waiting with anticipation for Liz’s book to make it out of quarantine, and am resisting the urge to buy any other books. There’s so much to learn!
My curiosity propels me, and, I’m noticing, helps me to engage with my process and art in an almost detached way. I’m less worried about trying new things, and when I make mistakes, I recognize them as opportunities rather than disasters.
Here’s an example. I’ve been making folded books to send to friends during the pandemic. As I flipped through one of the books, I saw the same quote on two consecutive pages – UGH! I didn’t want to redo the whole book, and I wanted to maintain the structure of a single sheet folded and cut in such a way as to create a folded book. What was I to do? I took a breath and a moment to think and wonder “How might I … ?”
After a bit I realized I could cut the page, and paste in a piece of my collaging stash.
By approaching the mistake with curiosity, I was able to see it as an opportunity rich with potential and possibility. The problem opened my eyes to ideas I hadn’t previously considered, and encouraged me to make connections I hadn’t yet made. It turned out to be a happy mistake as I discovered a new way to create the books while adding color, interest, and a unique place for me to add art and inspiration!
Curiosity isn’t always all I need. There are times I am curious and still afraid. Just the other day I was working on my purposely wonky mandala-like designs. I had finished the design and inked in all the various elements. I loved it. My plan was to add color with the watercolor glazing technique — laying down light layers to create shades and depth of color. But, as I looked a the piece I hesitated. Dare I take the next step? Dare I follow through on my desire to try watercolor glazing? Dare I let curiosity lead me to take the risk of putting color to the paper — and possibly wrecking it. Eeee gads.
I did all those things, but not without first stirring up my courage. It’s remarkable, really, how much courage I sometimes need in order to do things, even, and perhaps especially, things I very much want to do.
I made a few copies of my work so I could begin to experiment with the watercolors before placing them on my design. As I played with the colors, I noticed how they interacted with one another, and how they presented when placed together. It was fun, it taught me a lot, and it increased my confidence.
While experimenting and painting my actual piece, I was constantly stopping, looking, thinking, wondering. I looked from different angles — sometimes by changing the angle of the paper, and at others the angle of my head. I read an article that suggested the angled head posture is a sign of curiosity — trying to understand, to see in different ways, and to orient our ears in a way to gather more information. How cool is that? I laughed to myself thinking, ah, that is what I do when I’m listening or deep in concentration — nice to know it suggests I’m always curious and helps me learn.
My painting process was a blend of intuitive work and critical thinking. I was happy to have the time, quiet, and opportunity to experiment, notice, wonder, and learn. I was fascinated by my eyes growing ability to distinguish between very subtle differences in color. It was interesting to become aware of the things I saw, and didn’t see, each time I looked. It seemed my brain was able to perceive new things with each new look — things my eyes had already seen but my brain hadn’t been ready to process.
I’m super happy with my process, and product.
So, back to my wonderful companions — curiosity, courage, and creativity.
Curiosity encourages me to engage and persevere. The curious person is constantly asking questions, and looking to discover new things. I love when it opens the door to new ways of seeing by pushing me to ask questions like why? and why not?
Creativity births new ideas and opportunities as I problem-find and problem-solve. Creative thinking encourages me to make new connections and see possibility. It encourages me to be open to new ideas, and enables me to create things and ideas that didn’t exist before. Creative thinking is crucial in our ever changing and increasingly complex world.
Courage fosters my curiosity, creativity, and learning. With courage I am more willing and able to take risks, think, and learn.
My best work, learning, and enjoyment come when I am curious, courageous, and creative. If my best work, learning and enjoyment are championed by curiosity, courage, and creativity, so too for my students.
So I’m back to asking questions, and thinking about why, why not, and how might we?
Do I encourage metacognition– even in Kindergarten? Do I teach them the word? What structures are in place in my learning environment that encourage my learners to value their own thinking — sometimes even over the solution? When do they have the time to notice, think about, and document their own thinking? Perhaps even more powerful — how do I discourage it? What are the subtle ways I value the end result over the process?
Do I value and model curiosity? Am I teaching my students to wonder, ask questions, and strive for understanding? Do I provide time, opportunity, and my presence to their questions, wondering, learning, and understanding? And again, how might I unknowingly or unintentionally discourage questioning and self directed learning?
Do I honor the fear my learners may feel — especially when they are deeply invested in learning or doing something? What strategies do I teach them to help them increase their own courage? Have I created an infrastructure in my learning space that can help them find the right level of challenge — neither too easy or too hard — so as to grow their courage? Do my learners and I celebrate mistakes, and actively search for learning and beauty within our mistakes? Am I courageous enough to allow my learners to fail? Am I creative and sensitive enough to help them learn from their mistakes and fail forward? How might I be foiling their attempts to strengthen their courage?
Do my students understand the power of creative thinking? Do I encourage dreaming, wondering, fantastical ideas? Is there time in the day for my learners to experiment, tinker, and make? Am I encouraging creative thinking as well as doing? Are my learners empowered to find problems that mean something to them, and search for solutions? Am I patient, courageous, curious, and creative enough to find ways to allow my learners to find their own answers and way of doing things? Do I share my creativity without usurping theirs?
So much to consider. For now, I will let these thoughts ferment in the deep recesses of my mind. I’m on leave, and need to focus my energy on my health.
Labeling is part of every build in our classroom. Sometimes my request for labeling is met with a bit of grumbling. “Labels? Do we have to label? Why do we have to label things, Miss James?”
I always respond the same way. “Yes, you have to label things. Everyone find at least three things to label.” and “Why label?!?!!! You have to label things because when you label them, everyone else gets to know and understand your great ideas and creations!” Once they get over the need to stop building in order to label, and any hesitancy they have in their ability to write things that others can read, the labels begin popping up all over the build site.
Here are a few from this year’s Thanksgiving build.
(bed, pillow, home)
There’s tons of value in each of their labels. I can assess their phonemic awareness, and their ability to encode the sounds they hear. I get a deeper understanding of their thinking and building. And, perhaps best of all, they get to share their thinking and work with everyone who visits the build.
My favorite thinking shared this year (and mind you, they are ALL fantabulous and bring me great joy) was this one.
(For you, Mayflower. This corn is for you.)
We learn that the passengers of the Mayflower stole corn from the Native Americans. At first, the girls respond with outrage. “That wasn’t very nice! Why did they do that? That’s mean!” I acknowledge their observations and feelings, agreeing that it does sound mean, and not very nice. But then, I encourage them to think a bit about what the passengers of the Mayflower might have felt — and what we sometimes experience in our own lives.
“How do you think the Mayflower passengers felt when they arrived?” I ask. “They were on the boat for 66 days. The Mayflower wasn’t very big and there were a lot of passengers.” My students are silent, clearly trying to figure things out. They begin to share their recollections and thoughts — “There were storms. People died. A baby was born. Maybe they didn’t have enough food. They were probably cold. Maybe they were hungry.”
One asks “Why didn’t they just ask the Native Americans for some food?”
“Good question.” I respond. “Why didn’t they?”
At first they are silent again. Then I ask them. “Did the Native Americans and the passengers of the Mayflower looked alike? Did they dress the same? Do you think they spoke the same language?” They quietly and thoughtfully respond “No.”
Now I am silent. For a moment or two I let them sit with that information. Then I ask them “How do you think they felt?” With a greater of empathy they respond, “Maybe they were scared.” I shake my head, “Yeah, maybe they were scared.” Wanting to bring the two ideas together, I continue “It wasn’t nice what they did. They shouldn’t have stolen the corn, but it’s good for us to remember they might have been afraid, and hungry, and didn’t know what else to do.”
When the girl made those bags of corn, she showed them to me. “I decided to make these for the Mayflower. I’m going to leave them by the boat so they see them. Then they can just have this corn, and not steal ours.” I responded, “That’s a great idea. I bet they’ll be happy to find it.”
There is so much I love about her thoughts and work. Kindness. Empathy. Problem-solving. Offering without being asked. Leaving it with a note — therefore forgoing a thank you. Believing this will help them, and keep them from taking your things — without telling them not to take yours. Lastly, I love that the build, and the labeling, allowed this student to show the depth her understanding, empathy, kindness, and problem solving. May she keep it, grow it, and use it all her days!
Well, perhaps, “WOW!” and “Boy, oh boy, do I need a nap!”
It’s the beginning of our Thanksgiving Build 2017. All of this block thinking and work happened in less than 20 minutes!
It was amazing to experience and help facilitate it.
Prior to beginning the actual build, we prepped the room and ourselves.
We decided on a good spot for the tables.
We checked to be sure we could still move about the room as we need to for other activities.
We counted tiles on the floor.
We did some research — watching videos, reading/looking at books, and discussing our finds and understanding.
We chose our groups (citizens of England and Holland, passengers on the Mayflower, Native Americans).
Finally we met for our first day of building. Before working with the blocks, we held a quick planning meeting. I acted as the scribe, and recorded their ideas. Each group excitedly generated an extensive list of things they would need in their area of the build. Often their ideas played off of each other. I worked to keep the group focused and positive, accepting all ideas, confident that we would discover and modify anything that might need to be changed as we did the build.
It was interesting to make the lists together. They were invested in the process and shared their ideas with enthusiasm, but at the same moment, they were straining against the confines of the table, chairs, and list making. Their desire to begin the build was visible, and when I set them free, the room erupted into a spirited burst of conversation and movement.
They talked to one another as they moved to gather blocks and tools. Sometimes one of them would think of something else they needed, and give me a shout — “Bears! Add bears to the list Miss James!” For now the lists are posted on our whiteboard. We’ll revisit them at various points of the build — to see what has been done, what needs to be done, and what needs to be added.
Many things have to remain in balance as the build progresses. Of course, the blocks themselves must remain balanced. Given the inherent instability of certain block formations, and the sometimes whirlwind like movement of kindergartners, this is often more difficult than it sounds. But, many other things are also always in a delicate, sometimes beautiful, sometimes precarious, state of balance.
As the build facilitator I want to encourage and enable student agency, freedom, discovery, and creativity. At the same time I want to infuse their creativity with the all important ingredient of usefulness. I work hard to encourage thinking, comparing, noticing, and rethinking, without discouraging their ideas and budding understanding. Sometimes this means I have to refocus my gaze and perception. I need to look at the build not as a product alone, but as a process. And, I need to consider what my students knew before beginning, what they are expressing with their work, and what is most important.
Keeping the social emotional energy balanced is imperative. The collaboration — both physical and mental — that occurs while creating in groups is huge! Sometimes we aren’t used to this type of work, and disagreements or power struggles ensue. These moments are often fraught with emotion, but once breaths are taken, the disagreements and struggles become awesome opportunities for conversation, learning and growth.
Another area of social emotional balance involves my comments and suggestions. I have to be aware of the times when my interjections are causing too much disequilibrium in my builders. I want them to think, to struggle and to reach new levels of understanding. I don’t want them to doubt themselves or their work.
So, back to their work. We will build until winter break. Things will be added, taken away, and modified. This is just the beginning. And a great beginning it is!
Remind yourself of their age, their task, and their timeframe. And be awed!
Our number of the day routine includes writing, spelling, and making a given number. We build math-muscle as we explain our thinking to each other – answering questions raised by our partner.
I love math and want my students to love it, too! Hoping to infuse a bit of passion into their routine, I tweaked the process last Friday.
Me: “Pick a number, over 20, and complete your number of the day booklet.”
Them: (with equal amounts incredulity and excitement): “Any number?”
Me: “As long as it’s greater than 20.”
Some jumped head-first into the cloud – challenging themselves more than I might have challenged them. They worked with excitement – fending off any negative feelings – as we sprawled on the carpet, and navigated the cloud together.
Others chose safer numbers. But, they too were stretched and challenged as they wondered, discussed and devised methods to show numbers greater than 20 given only 2 ten frames and blank space.
At first glance perhaps it seems like a very small innovation. Choice. But, the result was stupendous. Trust, freedom, choice, joy, thinking, learning and growth experienced by all. What could be better?
My thinking cap is on, imagining ways to continue to tweak and innovate within our routines!
I had a coupon for Michael’s Arts and Crafts – 50% off one item! YAY!!! I didn’t really need any big ticket items, so I wandered the paint and art paper aisles. There, on the bottom shelf, I noticed a small jar of molding paste. I’ve seen people use it, but have never tried it myself. Hmmm, the perfect way to use my coupon!
I vaguely remembered someone using the paste with stencils, so I googled “how to use molding paste with stencils.” I found one video that confirmed my ideas, and then I became distracted by the tons of fabulous video links. Somehow, I came upon this one — Doodling and Painting on Canvas — by Betty Franks Krause. I LOVE her suggestion that doodling and painting go together! Like her, I’m a doodler. It gives me great joy, but as yet, had not appeared in any of my painted artwork.
So, in the spirit of Austin Kleon’s Steal Like An Artist, I took Betty’s idea, gave her credit, and adapted it to make it my own. Perhaps she actually stole it from someone else. Who knows? I enjoy imaging she did, because I like to think of this great idea, being transformed by one artist after another, each time becoming newly joy-filled, unique and awesome.
I really like the freedom with which Betty approached her work in this video. She laid down color in an almost haphazard way. This is not to say it was without intention. Clearly there was the intention to create something beautiful. But, it seemed the painting was quite organic, and that the intention emerged as she created, rather than being planned before she worked. I found that notion very freeing! In her, and my work, I noticed that, much like my work with my colleagues ( Expected, and Unexpected, Process and Product) the layers of color added to the depth and interest.
This allowed me to approach my process with a great deal of abandon. It almost didn’t matter which color I chose – I could always change it later on. And, I could change the impact by changing the colors at different moments. If I changed colors immediately, the colors blended, or caused interesting shading. If I waited for the first color to dry, the second (or third) color was much truer in hue. It was great fun to approach my work with this freedom – embracing the unknown and unexpected — watching the piece develop, and change, throughout the process.
I combined several ideas in this piece:
A written base layer
Molding paste and stencils
Here’s a bit of the process:
I decided to fill my base layer with positive thoughts. For this particular piece I chose a Scripture I find comforting and grounding — Psalm 46. I wrote it with a black sharpie. Even though it would be mostly obscured by the various other layers, I was careful to make it pleasing to my eye – and my heart.
I applied the molding paste with an old hotel room keycard. Once the paste was dry, I started to lay down paint. I worked to make each layer pleasant and satisfying, but found myself changing colors frequently. It was an unusual experience because although I enjoyed each layer, the next always seemed better! Sometimes I purposefully added a second or third layer because it seemed each layer positively impacted the final product. Finally it was time to add detail doodling.
Here it is with the detail doodling layered on top.
For this piece I used Sharpie extra fine tip paint markers. I liked the look, and the ease of application. Unfortunately the tips clogged. I was disappointed, and a bit frustrated, as I wanted to keep experimenting and exploring. However, I didn’t want to buy any more sharpie markers, as some reviews mentioned similar problems. I researched extra fine acrylic paint markers, but nothing seemed to be what I needed or wanted. I was stumped, and a none to happy with this impediment.
Thankfully, my angst was no match for my curiosity, and my enjoyment of creating. I started another canvas and figured something would occur to me. How could it not? Lol!
Finishing the stenciling and painting, I hunted around my room for something to use to doodle. I tried a permanent marker. Nope, same dilemma as before. I searched some more and came up empty. Finally, I sat at my desk, my mind fiercely rummaging through my memories for some tool I might have that would work. At the same time, my eyes searched my space. Then I saw it! A container of india ink sitting on my desk – unopened! I laughed to myself and thought “I’m so happy I wanted to have that months ago – even though I had no idea what I would do with it!”
I grabbed my nibbed calligraphy pen and set to work. It worked fabulously! Easy to use, fast drying, looks great. But, what to do for the white? “Hmmm,” I thought, “If I had white ink I’d be set.” As I sat there, I realized “who needs white ink? I have white acrylic paint. I can make ink!”
In an uncharacteristic moment of willingness to risk wrecking the canvas, I decided if it didn’t work I’d just gesso over it. So, I found an old lid, created some acrylic paint ink and set to work. When everything was dry, I held my breath for a moment as I painted a tiny spot with the mat finish varnish I wanted to use. To my great relief, the india ink and hand-fashioned acrylic paint ink, held firm and looked fabulous.
Here is the second piece.
I’m excited to explore the many possibilities that open to me by:
stealing like an artist
altering my own old ideas
combining ideas and mediums
problem solving with the tools and material on hand
being willing to make a mistake, learn, and start again
And, I’m asking myself “How might I ...
adapt this process
provide and encourage freedom
empower and provoke problem solving
encourage and embrace mistake-making and learning
find, and provide, this kind of space, time and a materials
My bathroom has two sliding doors. I designed the bathroom with these doors as canvases for some sort of artwork. Finally, one side of one of the doors is finished!!! Well, to be specific, the artwork is finished,but the door remains perched on two saw horses in my bedroom/studio, waiting for a few coats of polyurethane before it is hung again on its slider.
It is remarkable how much thought, research, doodling, re-thinking, kibitizing, talking, looking, and physical work, are involved in being creative! I love the process, but for some reason, this project really encouraged me to notice the time, effort, thought and work of creativity.
I spent days thinking about the project. I imagined what I wanted. I thought about how I might achieve what I wanted. I changed my mind numerous times. I decided I wanted to — somehow — stay true to the architectural design of my arts and craft bungalow home.
This sent me on a long path of research – looking up arts and craft fonts, flipping through a plethora of arts and craft design and art books, and googling various people and pieces I was particularly drawn towards.
I found two fonts, and many designs I liked. Now I had to see if I could actually use them. Could I learn how to draw them and make them my own?
Next came the doodling and sketching. Funny as it may sound, I experience joy when I find and use a pencil that feels good in my hand, moves smoothly across the paper, makes great marks and erases easily. And speaking of erasing, the number of iterations I went through in order to come up with the final design, was amazing! I wish I hadn’t thrown away all my sketches. It would be good for my students to see and know that the work that looks so easy, and causes them to say, “Wow, you are so good at that, Miss James!” is actually informed and supported by many other tries! I’ll be sure to keep the next batch.
My final design is the result of being open to possibilities wherever I found them, and mashing together ideas from many different arenas – arts and craft designs, zen-tangling sensibilities, yoga, mandalas, nature, botany, math, color theory, and I’m sure many more that I’m currently forgetting!
But that wasn’t the end! The work, thinking, experimenting, ideating and iterating continued.
Now I had to take my idea – drawn on an 8.5 x 11 piece of paper – and transpose it into something beautiful on the actual door. Rulers, yardsticks, lovely pencils and erasers, compasses, and scratch pieces of paper were purposefully strewn across the door. I measured, sketched, thought, looked, breathed …. and did it all again for some time. It was fabulous! Finally the design was sketched onto the door.
Next was the wood-burning stage which would create the dark lines of the design on my door. I should mention that this stage was also preceded by many hours of practice. The burner comes with many different tips. I experimented with each one to see what type of line it created, which heat worked best for it, and how easily I could manipulate it to create the lines I wanted. I experimented on various types of wood – they all seem to burn differently – and then explored the different areas of the clear pine I was using. The grain caused different burning rates and necessitated changes in speed and heat.
Finally, time for color! I loved the look of the design burned into the wood. I’m sure it would have been fine to polyurethane it in its natural form, but I had created it with color in my mind and knew it would seem unfinished if I left it uncolored. So, once again, I risked “wrecking it” in order to make it what I knew it could be.
I laid the colors out on the design – playing with different combinations.
I painted the colors onto a similar piece of wood. I was amazed by the difference in the colors out of the paint tube versus on the tube.
I thought, looked and waited. Mostly the waiting was because I was working during the day and coaching in the evenings, leaving me little time to create. But, that waiting was important, because I had time to look, and look some more, and allow my brain to play with the colors.
I couldn’t decide on all the color combinations so I started with one color combination – the leaves – and as I painted, the other colors combinations coalesced for me.
The color and painting process was fascinating! I tried to figure out the entire color scheme, but failed time and time again. When I stopped trying and began painting, I – for lack of a better phrase – began to see better. It was as though the process of immersing myself in the medium – the paint and the painting – increased my clarity.
I can’t explain it — many ways it was magical! As I painted the leaves, with the tubes of paint lying about me, and I would notice myself thinking “Oh! That might work.” I’d continue painting, and notice another thought “Hmm, perhaps that is too much. I think this might be better.”
Often I’d run my ideas past my brother (another creative, learned soul) for clarification and validation. I wouldn’t always use his ideas, but somehow his ideas fed mine and helped them become more “perfect.”
Each step in the process involved risk, flow, joy, time and triumph. It was all fabulous, but the time was really important. Time to think, to do, to wonder, to mess up, to re-think, and to experience the process, the product, the materials. I would often just stand at my work – leaning on the door, examining it with my eyes. Other times, I would run my palm over the work. The tactile experience of touching my work in its various stages of completeness was incredibly important, necessary and satisfying.
It makes me think about school and my students. How can I help them have this experience of creativity — in all its angst, sweat and splendor? How can I give them the time and opportunity to experience — in their own creative work and thought — what I experienced in mine?
I’m not completely sure, but rest assured I’ll be thinking about it, and letting the question, and any possible answers, inform my teaching practice!