School's Out

Field Trip To Houston

8" x 10"

pencil

"School's out! School's out! Teacher let the mules out!"

Shouts rang out and echoed all through the three story school building, all the way down the sidewalk, and down Burnett Street, all the way to homes and downtown as soon as the final bell rang at Calvert High. Everyone waited quietly, hearts pounding with excitement, waiting to hear that ear-splitting bell ring for the last time of the year.

It was hot, as if Mother Nature knew that, when school was out, it was summer, no matter what officials who made up the calendar said.

Teachers worked quitely, sorting papers, while the students sat at their desks, still not allowed to talk.

When that bell finally did ring, there was just a moments hesitation as students wondered if the teacher would insist on dismissing them that day, as usual, or would it be okay to just break out and run.

It didn't take long for the flood of papers, kept so carefully during the year, to line the street, all the way from the front door of the school to town. (Of course, some people were proud of their work and kept it in their notebooks, and others were just plain scared to make a mess like that!)

People who lived in the houses along the street didn't look forward to this last day and the mess that they were left with in their yards.

George and the trash truck would soon come along and George would be sweeping with his wide broom, collecting the paper and throwing it into the back of the big, rounded truck. Of course, since he was also the janitor at school, he would be left to clean all that up, too. But, he always did it quietly, and with a little smile, just tolerating all those kids over the years.

With only one older man to take care of the school building, the grounds, and collect trash for the town, it's amazing to think how clean and well kept everything was.

Since he was older, and they probably couldn't get anyone else to do as much for as little pay as they gave George, I think that his afternoon naps down in the boiler room, were also tolerated.

During the time of WWII, wasting anything was not good, and paper, like everything else was used wisely, and recycled for the War Effort. There probably was not the ritual blizzrd of throwing all the year's school work to the wind after the final bell, during those years. Since I was in elementary school then, we didn't have a massive build up of papers that we had to keep all year, like we did in classes like Mrs. Brannon's English class in high school.

From the other side of the desk, the teachers would be just as anxious for that last bell as the students, but they couldn't show it. (Although I have known teachers who evacuated the building as fast as, or even ahead of, the students!) Usually, though, they had more days of work ahead of them, winding up the year and getting ready for the next.

The above drawing is from my sketchbook, and shows one trip that I took to the Houston Zoo with my oldest grandson's class a few years back. His teacher sat behind me, sideways, and talked to the teacher across the aisle from her. (Good thing that the bus didn't have to stop suddenly or she might have been in the floor, or in the front through the windshield!)

I thought that trip might make a good little story. The little boy across the aisle from me spent most of the trip, staring at me, except for the time that he fell asleep.

One thing that stands out in my mind about that trip was how miserably hot it was on the, supposedly, air conditioned buses. It was like a steam bath in there. We finally opened some windows to get a little air, but the bus driver told us not to do that. Some of us toward the back cheated and kept the window open a crack to get a little fresh air. Everyone was miserable. A lot of kids took a nap, with sweat dampening their hair. I thought I was going to pass out! The air conditioning only seemed to be putting out humidity, like one of those water cooled fans that we used to have. (Didn't work too well in our high humidity!) I think they had the temperature set, really high. The bus driver's area seemed comfortable, but the rest of the bus was not.

The picture shows how it was in the morning, on the way to the city, before it got so terribly hot.

I hope that you have some good field trip memories, and some good memories from school, especially fresh ones, if you are winding up your school year.

For this year, I remember getting up early to make breakfast for my grandson as the sun rose, then started painting after I wished him well and he rushed off to school that day.

I remember struggling to make decent French Toast, and burning cinnamon toast, and undercooking regular toast. We tried oatmeal and various things, until there was a period when he didn't want to eat anything in the morning. He was too nervous about going off to school.

There were nights of listening to him read and discussing stories with him, of sitting with him while he wrote multiplication tables and spelling words, or filled out papers, and of going over cards with famous artists and information about them as he prepared for Picture Memory at UIL. I thought that it might help if I wrote those multiplication tables with him, so I wrote them too. ( I still have to look up some of them! I'll never learn those things! My system of counting dots, which formed shapes or patterns, got me through.)

Sometimes children remember by hearing things, so I tried to be sure that he heard things, as well as being able to see them.

There were nights of working on special projects, more recently of making a poster and doing research about George Washington and looking for pictures of people in my grandson's family who looked like him. (Good thing that I have scanned all these family pictures as I work on family history or he wouldn't have had any family pictures to take to school!)

He was excited to get the recorder in music class, that they will use next year, and listen to him play the notes of the first song that they learned, "Hot Cross Buns".

There was anticipation of the 4th grade music program of Celtic music, just after St. Patrick's Day, that we looked forward to for months.

And looking at all those papers that he brought home each day, and going over them with him. Of hearing about the HOSTS person that met with him and looking at the stamps and stickers that my grandson got with him.

And hearing about their field trips to Sam Houston's home in Huntsville, and the symphony at A&M.

I've tried to sit with him, and let him talk , and reassure him, about his uncertainty about going to school each day. (I was like that too, I guess.) We've looked for good things and friends.

I saw the disappointment in him when the school had the students sell things, and he couldn't participate. And that's a sore spot with me. Having children go out and sell junky items to make money for the school is just a no-no. So unfair to kids who don't have anyone to sell to, who don't have money, and it's also dangerous. Many people just don't have the money to buy that sort of thing. The school should be providing the money for the students. If they belong to an organization that wants to do something like a bake sale at a store, that is one thing. Working as a group is okay, for some club, but putting out prizes that kids can't possibly earn is really wrong.

We don't buy those things ourselves, and don't know anyone who will. And, he is not allowed to just go around to strangers and try to sell them something. So, it is an impossible situation.

Adminstrators could do with less fancy offices and equipment, and lower pay, and that sort of thing, or they should do their jobs and go out and find the money that they need for the schools and the children.

We have ended another year when the students didn't learn to write. The teachers don't have time to teach those necessary skills because they are too busy with the TAKS test. So, I plan to be teaching calligraphy/handwriting this summer. That is the same method that we used to learn to write. And high school and college teachers wonder why kids can't write! It shouldn't be left to the parents to teach children how to write. Many of them can't do it, or don't have the time. But, it looks like that is the only way that kids are going to learn how to write, these days.

Hope that you have some wonderful plans for summer, which starts tomorrow here!

With high prices on everything, a lot of people may do what we do , this year. Stay at home and try to keep costs down! I can always find a lot to do around home. Just as long as we have plenty of paper, pencils, some glue, colors, paint, and the internet!

****************

Sign my Guest Book at the bottom of the page.

Please know that, if you sign my Guest Book, I cannot reply to you through the Guest Book. I will need for you to send me an e-mail through the contact address given, if you would like for me to respond.

Thank You!

****************

Reminder:

Look at my sidebar to see some upcoming events. The Texas Scottish Festival is right around the corner. And, we're thinking ahead to the 19th World Wide Sketch Crawl on Saturday June 21!

****************

Reciting in English Class

Reciting in English Class

8.5" x 11"

pencil

We finally made it. Ninth grade. High school. Many of us were there after only 7 years. And some of us were only 12 years old. In our small school, they only had 10 grades when we started to school. So, when it was decided to add the 12th grade, if our parents approved, we could skip the 4th grade. Some of us were eager to do so and to move on, anxious to get out of school and see what life had in store for us.

Calvert had always had an excellent school and turned out many successful people. We didn't have a lot of extras, but we had most of what we needed in school. Parents, neighbors, and community members made sure that we were in school and did what we were supposed to do.

One thing that helped was that we had the same teachers over a period of years, and those teachers all worked together to make sure that we learned and moved on. We didn't have frills, we didn't have much play, and the teachers seemed to be stern. There wasn't a lot of silliness, although, sometimes, we tried. We did have time to make friendships that lasted from our first days together, all through our lives, until today.

Some of those same teachers taught our parents, in fact. And, they even knew our grandparents and the rest of our families. Actually, everyone knew everyone in our little town.

Mrs. Blasienz taught English from 5th through 8th grade. Then, in 9th grade, Mrs. Brannon took over through 12th grade. Mrs. Pietsch, taught Social Studies from 5th through 8th grade. Mrs. Miller and Miss LaGrone taught typing and bookkeeping. Mr. Hunter taught music from lower grades, then moved us into the tonette in 6th grade. Some students went on into the band, then, and Mr. Hunter was our band director, until Mr. Haney came along. Coach Miller was the coach, as was the high school principal, Mr. Rushing, who also taught math. Mrs. Sullivan was the homemaking teacher. Mr. Attaway was one of the science teachers. Maybe we didn't have such a strong background in math or science because we didn't have the same teachers over a period of time, who were also very passionate about their subjects.

Well, here we were, our "big" class of about 20 students, up on the third floor-the high school. Sitting in the big desks, chairs with side arms. We were armed with our English notebooks filled with lined paper, newly covered English books, a pencil, and a fountain pen. Some of us had our own bottle of Scrips or Shaeffers blue or black ink, but there was a fresh bottle of ink on the corner of the teacher's desk, just in case we needed it.

Refilling the pen took a little time, and, if we played our cards right, we could drag it out to take quite a while! (While the teacher glared at us!) We had to get permission to get up, then explain why we needed to get up. If it was approved, we walked to the desk, unscrewed the top from the ink bottle, and the pen top. The nib of the pen was placed into the small well of ink on the side while, at the same time, slowly opening the little lever on the side of the pen, drawing up ink into the rubber bladder of the pen. The lever was then slowly closed. A Kleenex was used to wipe excess ink from the pen before closing it. After the cap was replaced on the ink, a slow trip back to the desk was made, while carefully straightening skirts, socks, and hair and sliding into the desk. Part of the trip, too, involved looking at what others were doing, and checking out who might be watching.

Of course, we could get a little extra play out of those old pens, and we could ruin our clothes in the process, if the ink bladder broke or if the pen started leaking all over the place. We were so thrilled when they came out with pens with an ink cartridge! Sometimes, those didn't work too well either. They could leak or sometimes the hole wouldn't go through the plastic cartrige and the ink wouldn't come out. But that stopped the trips to the ink bottle. Then, we had to carry around packets of cartriges or put them in our pencil bag or pockets.

For some of us, our days at school were filled with work, friends, and trying to survive teachers and bullies. And, for me, there was also a lot of time spent daydreaming and trying to hide my drawing from the teachers!

After school, there was going home to be with friends, pets, family, going to town to the drugstore or to the stores, listening to the radio, or there might be after school or church activities. Sometimes there were extra lessons in piano or dance, or parties, or listening to records.

Some students had chores to do at home before homework was done. I didn't have that, but, it was sort of whatever I took a notion that I wanted to do.

Some of the older boys had after school or summer jobs, and some of the girls found ways to make money by baby sitting or working at places like the drugstore. There weren't a lot of places to work in our little town. Especially for kids. Those of us, whose families had stores, often were taught to help out there and spent a lot of time in the stores. In our family, we started out helping customers early, sweeping, stringing handkerchiefs, putting tags on merchanidise, and even the youngest were taught to look for shoplifters. (Those were rare, of course, but it kept kids occupied!)

In some families, it was necessary for boys to work and help out. They could buy their own clothes and school materials, that way, not to mention food, and they, then, had their own spending money.

I remember one of my classmates, who worked at a job that seemed to be hard, dirty, work for men. The auction barn was big business in town and big trucks, loaded with noisey cattle, started rolling in for the auction on Thursday night. We could hear the noise all over town as the trucks were unloaded and cattle put into the pens. Dust , or mud on a rainy day, was everywhere. On Friday, the parking area was filled with pick up trucks and men, dressed in western suits, jeans and boots, or overalls and boots, filled the interior. Workers climbed the fences of the pens, prodded the cattle along, as the auctioneer rattled off whatever he was saying. Sometimes, ladies, children, and other community members, went to the cafe at the auction barn for dinner (at noon). The auction required a lot of helpers, and several eager younger men joined the crew for Friday, and sometimes Thursday, too. By Saturday, it was all over and all the activity shifted to Main Street.

I felt sure that our classmate had a difficult time keeping up with school requirements. Tests were often on Friday and there was homework to be done for Monday. Reviews for tests were usually on Thursday. It wasn't too cool to not be ready when Mrs. Brannon, or other teachers, called on you. In fact, it might bring a comment or one of those glares that made you wonder if a trip to the office was about to happen! And that might mean an application of the "board of education" (the paddle in the principals' office), or even worse, a call to your parents. We all held our breath if anyone didn't have their work done or the correct answer on time.

This day, our classmate stood by the south wall of the English room, a wall full of big windows. The big oak tree where we once made frog houses and played "London Bridge" on the playground below, thrust its bare limbs past the windows behind him. The tip of the tall Cedar tree at the edge of the elementary school yard showed just above the window sill. A trainer (plane) from Bryan Air Force Base hummed as it made its way back to the base from its practice run to Connally in Waco.

He stood, looking small, and shy as he read softly from the paper he held. One eyebrow slightly arched. His shoulders were pulled up close to the back of his head. A stray piece of light brown hair fell across his forehead. There was a little point sticking out from the shoulders of his brown and white plaid cotton shirt. He wore a thin leather belt with a large buckle with his khaki pants. Brown boots showed from beneath his pants. Boots, a sign of the man's world that he worked in, and not the look of other young students who wore oxfords or penny loafers to school.

Mrs. Brannon sat at her desk, listening, looking down at her desk. Her black hair was neatly tucked into rolls around her head. Her only makeup was a bit of dark red lipstick. A strand of dime store pearls were around her neck. Her sheer voile dress seemed to float with its wide loose sleeves and sweetheart neckline. There were papers beneath her folded arms. Her English book was on one corner of her desk, the bottle of blue ink was on the other side. Her red grading pencil was still in the desk drawer. She had removed her squared, rimless glasses after roll was checked.

My mind wandered as I looked past my classmate and out the windows. I wanted to be out there and not stuck in this room. I hoped that Mrs. Brannon was paying attention to the reader and not to me. Maybe I wouldn't have to be ready to participate today, if I just acted like I was listening. I also hoped that she wouldn't fuss about anything today. Maybe his reading would take all period and there wouldn't be time for her to criticize him or his work-or the rest of us. And maybe the gigling boys in the front would behave so that she wouldn't have to wave the yardstick over their heads today. Maybe I could draw something, and hide my picture under my paper so she would think that I was taking notes or doing work. Or maybe I could daydream, of boyfriends I hoped I would meet someday, of my dream home, or movie stars, or what my cats and dog were doing, or ice cream and comic books at the drugstore later, what I was missing on the radio, what we would have for an after school snack, or who I would go to play with after school.

I remember teachers talking to those who missed school, insisting that being at school was most important. They didn't seem to go out of their way to be nice to anyone who didn't have all their work done. In my view, they didn't seem to have much sympathy or understanding for anything other than school and their class in particular. That seemed to make school even harder, especially for anyone who had to grow up a little faster. They probably knew more than I understood, since everyone in town seemed to know everything about everybody. And they were trying to encourage all students to get a good education.

Now, I wonder what he read that day. Was it a story? A poem? Were we working on spelling? Or sentence structure? I do know that we didn't have the fill in the blank papers or darken in a little circle that kids get in school today.

"Write everything out," we were told.

"Cutting things short shows laziness and bad manners."

Sadly, our classmate is gone. He died this past week. I'm so glad that we all got to be together at our school reunion last summer. Like most of the boys at school, I never knew him very well, but we all spent so many years together that they were each very special. The girls seemed to stick together as friends, and the boys were close.

I always thought that this enterprising young man, grew up earlier than some of us, and he certainly was able to understand and get along in the world of work before most of us had to encounter the outside world. I'm sure that his experience and willingness to work served him well through his life. He leaves a loving family, his friends, his schoolmates, and many memories. Including mine.

************************************

Sometimes, I think it would be nice to sit in those old desks, in the old classroom, with a new package of notebook paper in a notebook, and a pen and a bottle of ink, and just write stories and draw while a classmate reads and the teacher listens. ( Of course, it would have to be without the threat of teasing, grades, being fussed at, or "the board of education"!)

Project-Mock Stained Glass Window Part I

This is another project for Lisa, for teachers, for kids, and the young at heart, or anyone who likes to make things. Have fun with this, no matter what age group you are in. If you try this, or the other project, that results in something that you would like to share, please send me a picture. I would love to add it to my blog and show what you came up with.

Before Christmas, I liked to have my students make these paper, stained glass windows. As they made them, we taped them to the windows. Almost every year, we filled the windows, allowing light to shine through, giving us a very colorful room. In one of my rooms, an old ag shop, a large building with huge windows on the north and south sides, the room was almost like a cathedral, when we had the windows filled. It was very warm and cheerful, almost breathtaking, on a sunny day. And, so sad after we took them all down when we left for the holidays. Usually, the paper was faded and the projects were filled with dust, by the time we were dismissed for Christmas. So, they ended up in the trash can. After we realized this would happen, I told students that they could make more than one. One to display, and one to keep. Some made several, just to make sure that the large windows were totally filled.
Besides filling our art room with these colorful windows, we sometimes shared them by taking them to the local nursing home and to the hospital, along with greeting cards, and little crafts we had made. The residents and patients really enjoyed having the students come to visit them and the colorful things for their rooms.

In order to share the project, my grandson and I are making examples, and I am scanning and saving the results. I do have one old photo that shows a few of the projects in our huge windows. Unfortunately, I didn't think of taking the picture when the sun was shining through the windows, but the focus was on our door decoration that year. You can see some of the "stained glass windows" in the back ground, filling the windows about half way up-as high as we could reach!

I would suggest that, if you would like to do this, and keep your project, you might use better quality paper. Construction paper does fade and become brittle easily. (Teachers use it because it is less expensive.) There are art or craft papers that would work for this. Use a heavy paper that has some body to it, and that says archival or acid free.
When teaching, I would try to find examples of stained glass windows to show students, and I would call attention to places in town where they might have stained glass windows. And we would talk about how the real windows are made. Usually, these would be in churches, but there are other buildings and homes that might also have such stained glass windows. Small stained glass projects such as boxes and light catchers for windows might be something that students could look at or may be familiar with.
In some situations, there might be budgets that allow for making actual stained glass projects. But, the cost, for most schools, is prohibitive, so we teach about them, and find ways to teach about the design, construction, and appreciation at a low cost.
Mock Stained Glass Windows
Materials
Black or dark colored construction paper (1 sheet)
colored tissue paper (assorted or pick the colors you like)
White crayon or white charcoal pencil
Elmer's or other white craft glue
Clear tape for hanging in a window
Old newspaper to protect work surface
Scissors
Alternate Materials
Black or dark colored construction paper (1 sheet) or larger black acid free paper
(You could do this very large, if desired)
waxed paper
iron
Old newspapers
Cup towels to protect iron (optional)
Crayon shavings
White charcoal pencil or white crayon
Craft or Elmer's glue
Scissors
(you can use a stencil or X-Acto knife for very delicate, precise cuts, on better paper)
Clear tape for hanging project in the window

Method


1. Fold a sheet of black paper in half, vertically. ("Hot dog" style, for younger kids!)
2. If you want to make a very neat project, with a covered back, you can use two sheets of paper, folded together, for a backing, so that they will come out the same.
3. With the paper folded, use the white charcoal pencil, or crayon, to draw your design on the black paper. Remember that the paper represents the lead caming, or the black metal that holds the different shapes together. It shouldn't be too thick. The black lines should be fairly thin which would allow more of the color to show through, and also, if you think about a true stained glass window, too much lead would make the windows far too heavy. If it's too thin, of course the "lead" will not support the glass.
Also, remember not to cut the outside edges. That represents the edges of the window, the part that will go in the window frame and hold it all together. A small piece of tape can correct an accidental cut, possibly.
The design can be free form, a picture, a design using a symbol, etc. You can make them up as you go, or use a pattern that you have drawn, or even from something like an old Christmas card. It is much easier if you follow the KISS principal of keeping it simple, especially in your first few efforts.
The above design was drawn by my 10 year old grandson, using the white charcoal pencil shown. He chose to do a design using free forms.
4. The second design I am showing is an angel surrounded by shapes, suggesting a church window. This is the one that I am doing.

5. Cut out the inside of the shapes. Be sure to leave the "lead caming" to connect your shapes!
I used a small pair of scissors but my grandson improvised so he could get the scissors in easier. He had removed the blade from a pencil sharpener and he used this to put a small slit in each shape. (Be sure you use a pad of old newspapers under your work so that you do not cut your work surface!) A stencil knife might be better, or anything to make a small hole to put the scissors into easier. However, note that cutting construction paper with a stencil knife does not leave a smooth cut. There might be some ragged edges that will still need to be trimmed.
I tried my grandson's technique and it did work, but you lack the safety of a handle by using such a small blade.
6. After the shapes are cut out, you might save the inside shapes to be used for another design. My grandson liked his designs and wants to paint them on a t-shirt!
If you do this for a class, you might save all these little bits of paper to be used for things like paper mosaics.
7. Select colors of tissue paper that you like for your design. You can use large pieces, or cut each piece to go behind the shapes in your "window". You may, for example, prefer to use only certain colors in your design, or you might like to use any bright colors, or one color combination.
8. Use glue on the back side of your "lead caming" or strips between the "glass" shapes.
9. Place the colored pieces of tissue paper on the back of your "window" to cover each opening.
Note that, sometimes, there is a right and wrong side to the tissue paper. Hold it up to the light to find out which side will allow the most color through before you glue the shape in.
10. If you cut two pieces of construction paper, place the second sheet behind the first, then glue it into place. This will cover any ragged edges and make for a more finished look on both sides of the window.
11. Place the finished "window" inside a window in your home or building. Use clear tape to secure them. (Don't press the tape too hard or you will have a job cleaning off tape later!) Lights at night will shine through them so that people outside can enjoy them and, during the day, as the sun shines, those indoors will be able to enjoy the colors and designs.
Alternate Method
Follow steps above numbers 1 through 6.
7. Use two sheets of waxed paper, the same size as your black paper.
8. Place crayon shavings on one sheet of waxed paper. You can select colors or randomly arrange them on the waxed paper.
9. Put the second sheet of waxed paper on top of the sheet with the crayon shavings.
10. Place old newspapers on your ironing board or surface where you can iron.
11. Put the two sheets of waxed paper, with crayon shavings between them, on the newspaper padding. Add more sheets of newspaper to protect your iron.
12. Iron until the crayon melts and the waxed paper sticks together.
(If you accidentally get crayon on your iron, you can remove it with sandpaper, after the iron has cooled.)
13. Remove the waxed paper from the newspaper and place the waxed paper over the cut out paper "window".
14. Use white glue on the inside of the "lead caming" or areas of the construction paper to glue the waxed paper in place.
15. If you made double cut outs, glue the second window on the back to make a neater finished back of the project.
16. Tape in a glass window to show.
I seem to be having trouble with adding pictures again. I keep getting a message that it "cannot contact blogger" and then that it is "saving" . But, the pictures won't add. I will add those in a second post like I did with the last project.
Originally, I had tried another version of creating Mock Stained Glass in which the instructions call for floating paper in trays of water with Wesson Oil to get the stained glass look. But, I didn't have the trays, and, in my experimenting, I just had a very oily mess! I don't recall what kind of paper it required, or the directions, but that might be something that others have had better luck with than I did. I know that you can marbelize paper with the oil, but, again, I didn't have the equipment for that, and I found that the projects with oil was too messy.
Enjoy!

Life Cycle

Life Cycle
Image Size 7.75" x 8.25"
Paper Size 10.25" x 11"
Watercolors on 300# Strathmore watercolor paper

We begin our lives, curled and tiny. After our birth, we fill our space on earth, beginning with being a small child, unable to walk, but still looking up to those who have passed this way before. As we continue our growth, we look up and reach out for strength, for knowledge, for guidance, for love, for others-for all the things we need to sustain us during our journey.
We reach our full height, straining in our reach for understanding of the mysteries of life, the spirit, and the universe, for others to embrace and share in our journey, to live in joy and in peace, secure.
As the years roll by, our strength and power becomes weaker as we become shrunken in our stature and our abilities. We reach out, weakly, still searching for powers and answers, for help with the rest of our life, and others to share with. There is still hope for life, but it is elusive.
Our bodies become stiffened and we stretch out alone, open to the universe. We wrap ourselves and wait, for that thing which we still do not understand.
We curl up unto ourselves and become one with the earth. Hidden from everyone. The body and powers, the eyes that could see, the voices that once sang and talked, the skin that we lovingly cared for, turning to leather and powder, until they are no more than the earth.
Above us shines a star, beckoning still, as it has all through our cycle of life. The sun and moon still shine for the next person, the next generation, promising hope and answers, power and life.
An angel rises from the earth and moves toward the heavens. Will she stay and guide the next generation? Will she protect the remains in the earth? Or possibly carry that one to Heaven? Or will she move on, to finally know all the answers and find what she had been reaching for all during the life cycle? Will she float silently? Will she dance and sing with joy? Will she hover closely to the earth and to those who remain to go through their own life cycle?
"Life Cycle" was painted on 300# Strathmore watercolor paper, using a limited palette of blue and brown, with a touch of purple and yellow.
I wish.
I wish I had taken a picture of his hand while he was drawing or while he painted. I wish that I had thought to exchange art work with him. I wish that I had taken time to talk with him more about his art. I wish that he had been able to spend more time creating his own art work, participating in art activities, and developing as an artist. I wish that he would have been able to make a good living as an artist and spent a peaceful, yet interesting, life working with his talent, for himself, for those who come after him, for posterity to appreciate.
Above all, I wish that he could have lived longer. That he could have been as strong and healthy as he appeared to be. I wish that he could have stayed on this earth, living a good life as the artist that he could have been.
Another death. An artist gone, before he could develop his own talent. Taken at a relatively young age.
I didn't know him all that well, but he was a colleague, and replaced me when I retired. I tried to encourage him to participate more in artistic activities, from the time he became "the other art teacher", and he seemed to enjoy the things that he was able to do. But his other duties always seemed to interfere, and I was left to participate in most things, with my own students, or alone. The few pieces of art that I saw of his showed a lot of promise. But, his time was spent teaching and coaching, and working. One legacy that he did leave was a new logo for the school, which he painted in many places. (I was glad for that! I had to paint the large, fighting, complicated, eagles everywhere prior to that!)
I hope that there is some of his work, somewhere, that will live on after him, other than the logo.
During workshops and demonstrations, beginning some years ago, I became interested in watching various artists work. I took some photos as most people do, and found that I would always get a picture of the artist's hand with a brush, pencil, or whatever tool they were using. I've thought that it would be interesting to do something along the lines of "The Hand Of The Artist". I never thought to get pictures of people who I am around, and now realize that this is something I should have done.
Especially now that my colleague is gone. I do have an image in my mind of the way that he worked, though.
I am in shock that this young man is gone. That he is lost to his students, his family, and that his talent is lost to the world. I really thought that he would be alright. He seemed to be so strong and there was so much more for him to do on earth.
So many people seem to be spending all their time working, and hoping that the day will come when they will be able to stay at home and develop their talents and interests. It is a shame that people can't make it by doing the things that they love and have a talent for, like art, writing, music, caring for their homes and their children. True, some people do love business, offices, paperwork, rigid schedules, challenges, and all the things that go with many jobs. But some people are just made to go in a different direction. They go through their working lives, trying to fit themselves, a round circle, into that square hole that we hear about. It's so hard for anyone, in any of the arts, to be able to find their niche and make a living with their abilities. And, too often, by the time they are able to quit jobs or retire, ill health, disabilities, finances, or even death puts a stop to those plans.
And, so the life cycle goes.
I won't be able to go to the funeral, but I can remember, and pay tribute to him. He will be remembered by many whose lives he touched.

Take time to do what you love, to create while you can, to make memories for generations to follow, to capture and share your life and the lives of those you remember while you can still remember, to sing while you still have a voice, to dance while your feet and legs still work, to take in the sights around you while you can still see, to drink in the sounds around you, and to enjoy whatever you can, while you are still able to find joy. Reach out and up all through your journey. Leave your mark on this earth, and, hopefully, that will be a mark that will be for the good of those who follow you.
And, always, leave your space in life better than you found it.
Have a wonderful, creative, peaceful weekend. Let me know if you see something of interest to you. And don't forget to check out my sidebar. There are always new things in the links.

Teachers Meeting

Teachers Meeting 4"x 12" Ink NFS
Right now, there are lots of hurting feet and legs and tired kids and teachers, after the first few days of school. Students are dealing with new classes, subject matter, rules, and having to face those government mandated tests. Teachers, too, have an overwhelming amount of things to deal with all the way from a huge amount of paperwork, discipline, learning about their new students and the best way to help them in their classes, to extra duties, and also having to be sure that their students do well on the standardized tests. Not to mention the physical aspects of having to work in less than ideal conditions, having to stand and walk for long periods of time, long hours and more to do after work, lifting, dragging, cleaning, preparing materials and supplies, not being able to eat, drink, or go to the restroom when needed, lots of stress to cope with, extra duty, and many other things that are a part of the job.
I have already posted things about memories of going back to school with children in my art work. After hearing from children and teachers about their tired feet and legs, I thought I would post something that has to do with going back to school , showing teachers. "Teachers Meeting" is part of a cartoon that I did some years ago, but it still holds true these days. Some of the words are what we heard as teachers gathered for the new school year.
Until recent years, we were deluged with salesmen, and required to sit and listen to them. Budgets didn't allow for buying many materials for school, and paychecks weren't large enough to purchase all the materials and various kinds of insurance that we probably needed. After years of protesting about these hours of presentations from salesmen, it was such a relief when the school district finally got a group life and health policy, and we could contact other insurance companies for other needs, if we were interested and could afford it. We really needed that time to get our rooms ready instead of listening to someone trying to sell us something that we couldn't afford.
So many meetings were such a waste of time, and sometimes, money paid to the presenters. Some teachers got through those by crocheting, knitting, or doing needlework, while listening. If I could do it so that people wouldn't notice, I would draw, but act as if I were taking notes. Or, if I couldn't draw, I learned to play "basketball" or "tennis" with the floaters in my eye. I could make those shapes bounce around from one end of the court to the other, or over the net. I don't care for sports, but I could move around in my imagination, by playing ball with my eyes, while sitting perfectly still. Other people told me that my eyes just sparkled and danced. Little did they know what I was actually doing. I was bored stiff and just entertaining myself.
This cartoon was done before the government tests, so I didn't mention that in my cartoon. But we had plenty of other things to be overwhelmed with. Sometimes, it seemed like an impossible situation.
Time passes, though, and, somehow, things get done, kids grow up and move on.
Last night, on a local tv channel, they showed high school graduation from last May. At last, I got to see my grandson graduate. I was there at the ceremony, but I couldn't see much because of my eye problems and being so far away in that big arena.

The First Day

The First Day

Covering Books

8.5" x 11"

pencil

We came home from school after that first day, loaded down with books, book covers, and our supplies. We didn't really have complaints of aching feet, but, often, there were blisters from those new shoes. (Tired, aching feet and legs came about the time of student teaching and later.)

We had listened to our teachers, some of whom had taught our partents, looked dreamily at the new young male teachers and wondered why a nice looking young female teacher would ever want to be a teacher. We looked at what our friends were doing, and wearing, wondered what we would wear to school the next day, checked out the other students in study hall or in our class to see if there might be someone new who might be cute and a possible boyfriend. But, no, it was pretty much the same, silly boys, year after year. We would have to go out of town to look for more mature, and cute, boys.

I looked out the window, no matter what side of the school we were on, and wished I were at home. I tried to listen, but that only lasted for so long. Soon, I was watching clouds, formations of airplanes as they flew over, the flag waving, my great-aunt sitting on her porch snapping peas or working in her yard, Mama and Bertie washing and hanging clothes on the clothesline in the back yard, and Daddy driving up the street from town to eat dinner. Paper and pencil would come out to write, or books to read from, but I started out writing, with two sheets of paper, one on top of the other. I drew girls or movies, on the bottom sheet, and slid it under my work when the teacher would approach. When the teacher stood by my desk, I pretended to be thinking really hard about my work.

Back at home at the end of the day, I got a drink of water, played with my cats a little, then lugged the books and supplies over to my friend's house next door. There, we spread out on the floor in her parent's bedroom, and covered our books with the brown paper covers with store advertising and sports schedules printed on them. My friend's covers always fit perfectly while mine were not quite right. One side would be too loose, one side so tight the books wouldn't close, or they would be off center . We didn't have Scotch tape as part of our supplies but we used white paste in a small jar, or, some years, we made our own with flour and water. Supplies were fairly simple. Scissors, two pencils, a box of crayons, or colored pencils if we were doing maps that year, a fountain pen and a bottle of ink. A tablet in lower grades, a notebook with notebook paper in later years. A protractor and compass were signs that students were now old enough to take Geometry. There were no backpacks, calculators, pencil bags, ball point pens, watercolors, or poster board for students. Some years, we had a cigar box to put our loose supplies in, that were obtained from any store where they sold cigars. We just had to ask. Later, there were wooden cigar boxes, which were really nice, but much heavier to have to carry around.

I thought I was really grown up when I got to have a blue cloth covered notebook and could use a fountain pen rather than pencil. As soon as books were covered, and notebook paper had been inserted in the notebook, names were put on the book covers. We thought we were really "slick" when we reversed the book covers, to show the plain side, and then wrote names all over those covers. Then we used fountain pen and ink to write names on the outside of the blue cloth notebooks. Those were added to all year or until the notebook fell apart and we had to get a new one. The teachers were not happy with our decorated book covers, though, and made us put on new covers, the correct way.

Now, I wonder why none of us ever thought to decorate those book covers with pictures or designs. We only copied each other in writing names on our books. (Never inside, though, except on the correct line inside the cover.) We didn't have art, and I don't remember but one other person doing any art work when we were in school. She had decided she wanted to be an artist, at one point. But, I don't recall ever seeing any art work that she did. We did have coloring books though.

My mother drew and painted, but she stopped when I was born, and didn't take art up again until I was a bit older. I wasn't exposed to drawing or art work at home, particularly, but I drew anyway. I thought of it as an escape, others looked at my drawing as something I was interested in.

We were taught to cherish and care for books and materials. We didn't dare put a mark in the school books, or even get a tear in the cover. It was really hard for me to use a highlighter or mark passages in the books I bought in later years. I still don't like to do that.

Of course, this was around the time of WWII, and there was a either a shortage or rationing of almost everything, including paper. War time followed the Depression, so people were still conserving and saving, trying to recover from those hard times.

The cost, as well as the way books are used and cared for today, have changed quite a bit. I still remember the anticipation of using that new package of notebook paper in the decorated notebook, of adding more names to my notebook and book covers, of dipping the fountain pen in ink and filling it, of going to the pencil sharpener for the first time and standing in line to sharpen my two pencils, the feel of paste on my fingers as I spread it on the corners of the book covers, and of wondering who I might have to sit by in class.

I don't have books to cover anymore, but I do have a notebook, with a fresh package of notebook paper to write on, when the notion strikes me. And, I have a grandson, to keep up with school work.

I have added a counter to my blog page. I thought it might be interesting to see where people are when they view my blog. I had seen that on several blogs and finally found how to add that on artist Nancy Standlee's ( Arlington, Texas) blog.

I hope that first day excitement and enthusiasm continues for you, and that tired feet recover soon. And, for others, I hope you get back into the rhythm of getting up early and sending the family off to school, and all the other schedules and rules that revolve around school.