Tag Archives: writing

Art Assuages Angst

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If you’re reading along with my posts, you know my recent life has been filled with caring for my dad. The stress and angst of his injury, complications, and days and nights in the hospital were pushing me to the edge. Then, my oncologist – after seeing my recent bloodwork – said, “You have got to take better care of yourself!” I nearly fell over the edge.

What’s a girl to do when she’s at the edge? Well if you’re me, you paint, write, or paint and write. I love playing with paint and words. I’m often surprised or stumped, and go through moments of deep thought and wondering, mess ups and revelations. Somehow the process brings me to a space of flow, peace, and joy.

Thinking about my process and experience, I did a bit of research to see what experts say about art assuaging angst, and aiding in health and wellbeing.

The Mayo Clinic — The intersection of art and health: How art can help promote well-being – Mayo Clinic Press

 The arts also can be beneficial to your physical and mental health when you experience them — as an appreciator or creator.
The American Congress of Rehabilitation Medicine says making or even just seeing art can impact the brain. Whether it’s part of a creative arts therapy exercise, or something you experience in your everyday life, art can help:
*Imagine a more hopeful future.
*Increase serotonin levels.
*Increase blood flow to the part of the brain associated with pleasure.
*Foster new ways of thinking.

The Connection Between Art, Healing, and Public Health: A Review of Current Literature – PMC

Engagement with creative activities has the potential to contribute toward reducing stress and depression and can serve as a vehicle for alleviating the burden of chronic disease.

So, as I am want to do when it’s time to create, I pushed aside the many things that were in my way (in life and on my kitchen table). I surrounded myself in that small cleared space with acrylic paint, paper, an acrylic wedge, old hotel door cards (the poor woman’s answer to pallet knives), artist tape, and some hopeful enthusiasm and curiosity.

First I just sat in that tiny creative haven breathing, looking, thinking, and being. I was reminded of the invitation from our school’s art gallery curator to be part of our faculty and staff art show. In the midst of everything, the provocation of new art had sat forgotten in the back of my mind. Now, it came into my conscious mind as a beautiful opportunity.

Wonder joined my breath, looking, thinking and being. What might I do that would bring me joy, peace, and healing? Is it possible to do that, and create something I’d like to submit for the show? I decided to play and see what happened.

First I mindfully taped the edges of the paper. Then I added the paint.

At first it didn’t work as I hoped. I tried a few times to bend the paint and process to my will. Finally, I surrendered to the process and paint. Instead of trying to control it, I bent to its will, or, at the very least, cooperated with it. I began to see what was possible and beautiful, rather than what didn’t work. I switched to a more monochromatic palette and the results of my change in thought and color were surprisingly beautiful and satisfying. The things that had been so frustrating became the elements I most enjoyed.

Sitting with my paintings I knew I had to add words. Haiku is a form of poetry that soothes me and brings me beautiful, quiet joy. Something about the process of forming my thoughts, and then forming those thoughts into 5-7-5 lines, changing words to match the beats, and finding unexpected inspiration in the new words, brings me into an almost parallel world of stillness. Many words flow out of me onto an old envelope. I gather them up and the haiku begins to take shape. Then, as is my usual experience, I am unable to find the right sound and feeling. I struggle on for a bit. Then I rest my head in my hands, close my eyes, breathe, and wait with peaceful expectation. As I wait, my breath deepens, my headache eases, my angst lessens, and the words appear.

Waves
Energy transferred
As waves crash on sand or soul
All they touch transform

Flowers
Gregariously
Flowers burst out with brilliance
In color and scent

Sunset Over Snow-covered Mountains

The Power of Relationships in Learning

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Relationships are powerful and essential components of learning.

I’m not the only one who knows this is true. Many educators — from Vgotsky, to Frances and David Hawkins, Harvard Graduate School of Education, and Reggio Emilia (and RE inspired educators) — speak of the importance of relationships for learning, understanding, creating, and thinking.

Inspired by Reggio Emilia I value relationships between parent, teacher, learner, and the environment. – and do my best to cultivate them. And, not just my relationship with each of them, but their relationships with each other. Through these connections, learners develop relationships with:materials, thoughts and ideas – their own and others, themselves, play, other learners, and the importance and value of struggle.

I’m always reminded of relationships as the school year ends and my summer begins. My relationship with time, energy, rest, exploration, play, creativity and my own physicality are blessed with opportunity and possibility. And of course, my relationships with my current learners and parents transition and change.

I never cease to be amazed (and edified) as I experience the power, essentiality, and inspiration of these relationships from learners new and old. I never take for granted the gift it is to bump into a former student, or receive a note in my mailbox. Here are a few that touched and reminded me of the power of these relationships.

An 11th grader saw me moving things around in the classroom. It’s a normal part of my end of year routine — but not a normal one for her.

11th grader: “What are you doing, Miss James?”
Me: “I’m moving some of my things out of the classroom.”

A look of confusion, then shock and horror, crossed her face. She asked a string of questions in rapid fire: “Are you leaving, Miss James? You’re not leaving are you? You can’t leave! What will the Kindergartners do? What would we do? You can’t leave!”

I took a breath, as I looked into those loving and panicked eyes of hers, and said, “Nope. I’m not leaving. Just moving some of my things.”

She looked at me as though trying to decide if I had told her the truth. Then she took a breath and said, “Oh, good. We need you.”

Then a 7th grader left me an amazing letter in my mailbox telling me about how I — and the way I teach Kindergarten — has continued to impact her life and learning. “Even though it’s been a while since Kindergarten, I still remember how your creativity, kindness, and positive energy made learning so much fun. You helped build the foundation that inspired me to grow, explore and believe in my myself. I’ll always be grateful for the start you gave me.”

And then there’s my sweet Kindergartners. One mom emailed me to share her daughter had been asking when she might have a playdate with me! And then, I a letter in the mail from another KJer proclaimed “Miss James. I love you. I loved being in KJ. Thank you for a great year. You are the best teacher.”

I know they don’t have a lot to go on when they proclaim me the best teacher. I understand it means they have experienced goodness, kindness, and acceptance in me. It means they have experienced and know that I am their (to quote Rita Pierson’s TED talk) “champion, an adult who will never give up on them, who understands the power of connection, and insists that they become the best that they can possibly be.”

Never underestimate the power of love, joy, relationships, understanding, acceptance, and dogged determination that we should all be the best we can be.

And (if you’ve read my previous post) never be afraid to share the joy of your art — cause we are all artists — with others. The crane’s flying soon!

The Power of Children’s Writing: Notes With a Purpose

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Some of my favorite things are notes from my Kindergartners. Often they are notes of love, at other times, they are notes requesting I do something for them.

This one was delivered after winter break. She told me her grandmother taught her to crochet over break.

Me: “Wow! That’s amazing. Was it fun?”

Her: “Yeah! Can I show you?”

Me: “Absolutely!”

Her: “Do you have a crochet needle?”

Me: “I do. But not here. I have some at home.”

Her: “Can you bring it in?”

Me; “Sure! Would you write me a note to remind me?”

Her: “A note? (pause) Yeah, I can write one.”

A few minutes later she returned with this note.

How absolutely amazing is this?! Yes, there are some reversals, but look at all the fantabulousness.

  • My name is spelled correctly.
  • Please has the correct vowel team! This means she talked with a friend who knew about vowel teams and they worked together.
  • Crow shay. That has to be my favorite spelling. It’s not conventional, but it tells me all I need to know.

And, perhaps most importantly, she has — with her own beautiful brain, and amazing hand — used writing for her own purpose. She wants a crochet hook, and she knows this will get her one.

I brought in two crochet hooks the next day. She, and others, have been using then happily ever since.

Celebrating Little Moments: A Kinder’s Art of Noticing

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The other day two of my Kindergarten artists were moving excitedly to a new spot in our learning space — paint brushes in hand. Paint brushes that were dripping with lovely purple watercolor paint.

Me: “Careful with the paint brushes. Maybe you can leave the here while you go there.”

Them: “Ok.”

They didn’t drop them off with me. Instead, a few moments later, as I wondered where they and their paint filled brushes were, I heard squeals of delight as the two of them hurried back to me.

Them: “POCKETS! Miss James, we have POCKETS!”

Me: (laughing out loud) “Indeed you do. What a great way to use them!”

Little things. Are there really any little things? Or is it simply the way we look at them.

Pockets — when I don’t need them or notice them — become small insignificant things. But when noticed, found, needed, and used, they become wonderous things to celebrate.

I’ve been wanting to bring more joy, positivity and hope into my life these days. I think this is an answer — notice and celebrate the little things.

Oh! How fantabulous is this?!?! I’ve also been looking for ways to encourage my Kinders to reflect and write. Perhaps a little-things-noticing ritual with a lovely handmade little-things-noticing journal is the answer! Art, writing, and mindfulness all wrapped up in one. This can be a beautiful ritual that allows us to slow down, take a moment, notice, celebrate, and keep track of the lovely little things. I think I can find a bit of time in the morning and afternoon for us to note one little — wonderful — thing.

Fingers crossed I’ll keep you posted.

Here’s a few of mine for right now:

  • sunshine
  • naps
  • sprouts growing
  • birds chirping
  • my flute
  • greeted by name by a kind soul
  • conversations with old friends
  • delicious green tea
  • my inhale-exhale mug
  • a blog post

I wonder how the Kinders will experience this ritual of reflection and writing. I will have to think how I might structure it — the journal, the time, the selling — to help them experience it’s power.

My experience? I found that seeing one thing brought another, and another to mind. Occasionally I felt a bit of reticence — thinking other might find my ritual silly, I think. But, as I brushed that away, I found more things to note.

Let us all learn from my Kindergartners. Let’s notice, celebrate and share the little moments — even when we think others might think us silly.

I’ll go first … “A nap! I got a nap!”

A Tribe of Scribes

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A couple months ago, I was invited to attend a writing retreat. I love the woman running the retreat. Ruth is kind, supportive, and funny. She has a big beautiful brain and an awesome heart, and she’s a great writer. So, I said yes.

I’ve been feeling tired, ill, and a bit off my game these last few weeks. Even though I was looking forward to it, I almost backed out of the retreat. I was in an exhausted funk.

Today, mid-funk, the mailman dropped off a package for me. I opened it to find this.

At first, I wondered what crazy person had sent me a book about murdering your darlings. Then I noticed the subtitle and he enclosed gift card. The card said “I’m looking forward to the retreat. Shine on!” The book was a gift from Ruth! Her gift and words were a beautiful balm for my heart and soul.

I’ve only read the cover, the dedication, the table of contents, and the introduction. But, I’m already hooked. I appreciate Roy’s sense of humor, honesty, and ideas. I can’t wait to read more. In Roy’s spirit of sharing, and to encourage you to read his work, here are a few fantabulous snippets:

  • DEDICATION: Roy dedicates the book to journalists, and reading and writing teachers. “You deserve medals as champions of literacy and democracy. Thank you for your service.” I feel seen and valued!
  • TABLE OF CONTENTS: There is just too much to comment on right now. Get your hands on a copy of Roy’s book and check it out for yourself.
  • INTRODUCTION: Roy’s comment about writing guides “… in rare but crucial cases spin my head around like an owl’s at an exorcism!” made me laugh out loud and nod in agreement about equally head-spinning ideas I’ve experienced. Later on, I cracked up reading his response to a question regarding how he managed to be such a prolific writer. He responded, “I write at faculty meetings.” Oh my gosh! Again, I cracked up.

Then I came upon this gem.

When an author writes a good writing guide that author is inviting you — in Frank Smith’s good phrase — to join a club. You may aspire to become a writer, but after reading their work on writing, you can better identify as one, feeling part of a community, a tribe of scribes. (Roy Peter Clark, p. 6)

Too bad I didn’t have a video recording of my response. I closed the book as I drew in my breath and fell back in my chair. I clasped the book to my heart, and gently stroked the cover.

That is what I want — as a human to be part of a club, a community, and as a writer to be part of a tribe of scribes! Thank you, Roy. Thank you, Ruth. Thank you to all the marvelous writers who have already accepted me into the tribe of scribes. I’m grateful and so glad to be here.

Stale or Absolutely Perfect?

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I have two tall white cabinets in my learning space. I use the white fronts for many things. Sometimes, things get stale. Yes, stale, just like dry, old bread. They lose their appeal. To be brutal, they are ready to be thrown away. Now, if they are student work, I don’t throw them away. But for emphasis sake, I use that phrase.

I recently removed some of that stale work from those cabinets. Naked — as my learners would say — their stark white color stood out, urging me to repurpose them for something beautiful and created by the children. For a few days, I let their urging ferment in my brain.

This week I decided to end the year as we began it: with real-life writing. On one cabinet, I wrote: We are … On the other I wrote: We can … I cut 6-inch square pieces of construction paper and left them out for our Investigate and Explore Time with the provocation to cover our naked cabinets with positive things that are true for us. The Kindergarten writers were into it, and quickly filled the covered the bare cabinets with beautiful affirmations of themselves.

The process was great. I enjoyed watching from afar — drawing near only to help when it was requested and necessary. Otherwise, I allowed the Kindergarteners to complete it on their own. Each day I noticed a new entry which filled my heart with joy. Then I saw this one.

Wow! Even though they have things to learn and ways to grow, and times when they are sad or mad and aren’t their best selves, they can still say “We are absolutely perfect.” I love that. I want them to know they are absolutely perfect. This will give the courage to learn, be, and change the world.

One student had not yet added her affirmations to her abstract art handprint piece. I asked her to finish it, and without hesitation, she sat down in front of the We are cabinet and began writing. Outstanding!

The cabinets adorned with the kindergartners’ thoughts, writing, and doodles add beauty to our room, serve as writing idea resources, and provide positive reminders. Well done, kindergartners!

Juicy Sentences

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Once you’re comfy, peel its gentle skin like you would a clementine … dig your thumb at the bottom of each juicy section and pop the piece out.

Kwame Alexander – How to Read a book

Kwame’s book is beautiful. The words are wonderful, and the images are stunning. This quote is one my Kindergartners and I come back to with great frequency. They have been thinking about scrumptious clementine pieces that are so juicy they burst when you bite them, sending clementine juice down your chin, and surrounding you with clementine fragrance.

The Kinders are crafting their own juicy sentences. They start with the driest of sentences, and tell only “Who, did what.” Then they use their imagination to say more about the who and the did what?

The juice, flavor, and fragrance of this one got me.

So much to love — her thinking, her writing, her ideas. We’re together, by the pizza store in our matching coats, gazing at the stars! It’s a great place to be.

A Sweet Treat and Reflection

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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.

Write More, Not Less

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It’s amazing how difficult it can be to write sometimes. It’s been feeling super tough to write as the summer comes to an end and the school year starts up again. I was shocked when I looked at my blog and realized I haven’t posted in over a month!

It’s not that I don’t have anything to say, instead, I often have too much to say. With so many thoughts swirling in my brain and competing to get to my fingers as I write or type, I end up getting a bit discombobulated. I wonder how to fit everything together. My brain becomes a bird distracted by all the shiny things around me and I end up running off after a new idea. I lose the train of thought that brought me to writing.

This morning I had an epiphany. Perhaps I’m not giving myself the opportunity to say what I have to say. I haven’t developed a practice that allows me to get my thoughts out of my brain and onto the page with any regularity. It reminds me of the feeling I have when I see a friend I haven’t seen in ages and I seem to lose the ability to finish sentences. Instead I speak in fragments as my thoughts trip over each other in their rush to leave my brain and be birthed into our time together.

I need to write more often. Might it be possible for me to establish a practice of daily reflection?

I feel myself begin to break into a sweat. How will I put one more thing into my day? Eeee GADS! Now you want to be a writer and write EVERY DAY!?!?!?!

Yes, I am having a moment of panic.

But, taking a deep breath, I remind myself I AM a writer. I have things to say. I have things I want and need to say. Not every writing needs to be profound. It just needs to capture whatever has captured me in that day or moment.

I like that. I like the connection to joy and beauty and awe. I think this practice will bear fruit in many ways in my life.

Now to let it happen.

And, in the spirit of having a plethora of ideas. I’m wondering where might I carve time out of our K day for me and my Kindergartners to take a moment and just write — as fellow writers!

Communicate and Overflow

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I’m reading All the Way to Heaven: The Selected Letters of Dorothy Day. Dorothy, founder of the Catholic Worker, was a writer in all senses of the word. She said:

The reason we write is to communicate ideas … We must overflow in writing about all the things we have been talking about and living … Writing is an act of community. It is a letter, it is comforting, consoling, helping, advising on our part, as well as asking it on yours. It is a part of our human association with each other. It is an expression of our love and concern for each other. *

Is that not fantabulous? It encourages me to, again, let my life overflow into my writing.

It’s been a week filled with emotion and anxiousness, but also prayer and blessings. Wednesday was my 12 year anniversary of being diagnosed with cancer.

It’s a beautiful anniversary, because without it, I would no longer be on the planet. But, it’s also a difficult anniversary. It was such an unexpected, glaring indication of my mortality. And, boy oh boy, a cancer diagnosis isn’t just dipping your toes into all of that. You are thrown into the deep end of the pool. The shock of hitting the water takes your breath away. You submerge. But then, face out of the water, you float, and slowly learn to swim.

This year I had a CAT scan scheduled for my anniversary. How’s that for good planning? (laughing) I didn’t choose the date, and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have chosen it had I been the scheduler. Still, in many ways it turned out to be the perfect date for the test.

Dorothy quotes Catherine of Sienna, “All the way to Heaven is heaven, because He said ‘I am the Way.’ “ Then she offers her wish — may heaven be in your heart today. *

The CAT scan, on my anniversary, heightened my fear and worry about the unknown. Out of necessity, I worked harder, surrendered more deeply, and prayed with greater fervor for heaven to be in my heart as I went about my day.

I was patient with the receptionist who seemed to be struggling with her own tiredness. I smiled under my mask and chuckled at my goofy comment to her. I chose to be peaceful as I waited — eyes closed, breathing with purpose and prayer. Then Miriam called me and walked with me to the CAT scan room. Miriam is a funny, talented nurse/tech — who knew what my brown scapular was. She laughed, talked, listened, and brought a bit of heaven to me, and boy oh boy am I grateful! Now I wait with hope.

I came home and crawled into bed for a much needed nap. I awoke to snow. I love snow! It’s beautiful and altogether magical. I fell asleep later that night to the delicate pings of the snowy mix against my windows.

The next morning, I bundled up and headed out to shovel. I remain easily fatigued, and not feeling totally well, but, how could I not go out into that cold, bright, beautiful, snow-filled day? Shovel in hand, I considered ignoring my fatigue and overall feelings of malaise. Thankfully my wiser self prevailed. I did slow, steady work, capturing ridiculously tiny amounts of snow in my shovel. And, I rested — a lot.

My work and rest routine turned out to be a great gift! The white of the snow was a perfect foil to the texture, shapes, and color of the grasses, berries, seed pods, branches, and flowers that surrounded me as I rested against the end of shovel. The seed pods and flowers provided pockets and pedestals for the ice to take shape. My stillness in the quiet enabled my ears to the hear the sounds of the bird’s flapping wings and chirping songs.

I gleefully snapped shots during each of my rests — sometimes resting more just to photograph. I purposefully chose brilliantly white snow-filled backgrounds with little extraneous visual noise.

When I finished, I sipped hot cocoa and crafted a poem. Hoping to encourage the feeling of soft peaceful silence, I used only lowercase letters. It was funnily jarring to change the uppercase I to lowercase. But, on my second or third read, I settled into it, appreciating the sense it gave that I am very small in this magnificent expanse of life, and snow.

_____________________

brilliant white snow
piercingly cold air
beautiful soft silence
broken only
by the birds’ wings
and sweet songs

shovel, rest, breathe

my breath deepens
my eyes
squinting in the light
see more
my ears
hear more

shovel, rest, breathe, look and listen

i notice a plethora of details
texture and structure
subtle changes in hue and tone
color where I thought there was none
always present
not always perceived

shovel, rest, breathe, look and listen, notice

i am in awe 
of the details
the beauty
and the gifts
of God and nature

shovel, rest, breathe, look and listen, notice, marvel

i try
to capture them 
with my
heart 
mind and 
camera

shovel, rest, breathe, look and listen, notice, marvel, photograph

i imagine and feel
sparkles of joy
with each gift
noticed with wonder
captured with gratitude

shovel, rest, breathe, look and listen, notice, marvel, photograph, be grateful

_____________________

It is incredibly important to fill my days with rest, breath, noticing, wonder, awe, and gratitude.

It is absolutely necessary to acknowledge my awesomeness and strength, as well as my tiredness.

It is essential to be kind and merciful to myself, and others.

As a human, sister, daughter, teacher, learner, writer, creative, artist, coach, and every other thing I am, and way I interact in this world, there is incredible value in silence, brilliant light, kindness, having heaven in my heart, and bringing it closer to others.

I join Dorothy in her wish for the world — May we all have heaven in our heart.

*Both quotes are from All the Way to Heaven: The Selected Letters of Dorothy Day by Robert Ellsberg