snowed right in

Was writing a while back about frivolity vs. gravity, and how one individual takes a given situation seriously, while  the next thinks of it as frivolous.  The same is true of snow fall, I suppose.  In upstate New York, the beautiful home from whence I hail, 16 inches of snow is quickly pushed to the side of the road, and life moves on without a hitch.  The rumor I have been hearing around here, on the other hand, is that there hasn’t been this much snow in Western PA, the new local where I have carved out a home, since 1993.  Everything has, consequently, shut down.  I had yesterday off of work anyway, but I was called off today, giving me another day cooped up in the new house with Ryan (who slumbers on the opposite couch as I write).

The sun is shining and the snow looks beautiful.  I was cracking up a little bit ago as I watched people attempt to excavate their vehicles from the mounds of snow.  It called to mind history channel specials of archeological digs, and Annie Dillard’s description of the uncovering of thousands of clay soldiers in China.  While I was daydreaming about this, I recalled another thought.  A good friend of mine and I have started an informal list of things that make us smile/laugh.  Its kind of like inside jokes I guess, but they are all (I think) innocent and universal.  For example, when people go to park their cars in those diagonal parking spaces on the side of the street, I just about keel over every time they pull forward and smash their tires into the sidewalk.  The car is sliding into its parking space and then the tires hit the curb and the whole vehicle shakes on its shocks.  The driver looks back and forth nervously hoping no one has seen (even though I have), and then backs up the car a few inches.  It happens all the time outside of the Beaver Starbucks, and it always makes me grin.  Sometimes I laugh and chuckle outright just thinking about it.  If I start now, I think I could have a full set of encyclopedias dedicated to these sort of events by the time I am old.  Then, when I have lost my usefulness to the rest of society, I will just laugh my remaining days away reading about all of the things that have cracked me up since I was 23.

Been keeping busy the last couple days around the house.  I want to develop a cultural capacity allowing me contentment in my own home.  Having groceries stockpiled would help, there isn’t much to eat around here of late.  Ryan walked to a gas station last night for some munch food.  Despite the lack of provisions, I’ve been keeping occupied.  I’ve been riding my bike a lot lately on my new indoor bike trainer.  I throw a DVD in my laptop, some headphones on my ears, and I pedal for a while.

Watched La Vie En Rose, which was beautiful.  Had me dreaming on my bike.  I’ve concluded that I want to learn up until I die, and I had another thought as well: I want to dream bigger and bigger until I die.  The problem with being a dreamer (guilty, I suppose, that’s what people tell me), is that dreams don’t always come true, and to the weak (guilty, too often), this leads to cynicism.  How many times can you have your dreams shattered because they didn’t come true?  Instead of responding cynically, I want to dream bigger, larger, grander…If my dream fails, then I must not have dreamed it large or elaborate enough.

I want to dream bigger than I can imagine…

baby steps

I posted a couple days ago about one of my students.  Monday he nearly completed the only project that he might have actually finished this year.  Well, Tuesday he destroyed it.  Wednesday he wasn’t in class because he was isolated.  Today, I had a victory.  He came into class and I was able to convince him to glue the broken, dried, pieces of his project back together.  When he finished with that, we put a clear coat of varnish on.  Success.  Tomorrow, with all hope, he will take the project home, the only piece he has completed this year.  Heck, if it is the only project he ever finishes in my class I am happy about it.

OK, so I didn’t get any B&S until 10AM this morning, but that is because I slept in.  The sun is shining today, which makes winter so much more bearable here in Western PA.

To my critics, myself, and to my friends: I have not fallen.

belle and sebastian as a means to non-violence

Thoughts in process.

Listening to Belle and Sebastian.  Pretty sure if everyone listened to them before 8:00AM there would be less violence in the world.  Borrowing from Stuart again, today I want to ride my bicycle, watch movies, drink coffee, write, maybe do some drawing and drink some whiskey.  These things are illusory; there are things I have to do.  I do NOT want to go to school, or to sell coffee at Starbucks.  I don’t want to pretend that everything is peachy and that I am content. But it’s what I have to do, it’s full of heavenly purpose, and therefore blessed.

Been a while since I reflected on work.  I had a great chat with John Stanley about teaching art last night.  I stumbled across Yo La Tengo’s biography (provided by the artist or their representative) on Amazon.com the other day.  Normally I don’t really read those things, but something caught my eye:

Down to their fingernails, Yo La Tengo understand that the dichotomy has never been love & hate—this life is about love & fear. And fear makes you run and hide, sit on your ass, do nothing but be consumed by it. To restate the obvious, Yo La Tengo are not afraid. They walk bravely forward, into the unknown, hand in hand. And 16 albums in, they may just be hitting their stride.

I like this idea.  I want to walk bravely forward, into the unknown, hand in hand (No, not with myself, though times I feel there is a deficiency of hands these days). I think some of my students are deathly afraid of succeeding.  I have a particular student who has not completed a single art project this entire year.  He has been in and out of juvenile detention three times since August (I actually had to be a witness in one of his court cases, which was miserable).  The first day of art class this year he threw a marker across the room which hit me in the face, landing him a suspension.  The next time he was back, he began a project, worked on it for a portion of the period, and then destroyed it and threw it around the room.  This latter action has since become the norm.  He usually walks into class and either 1) sees what we are doing and walks out, 2) walks into class, is disruptive, and is kicked out of class, or 3) comes into class, works on a piece for a part of the period, and then destroys it.

Monday was a slightly different variation on this typical scenario.  We were working with clay, and for the first time this entire year this twelve-year-old actually finished creating something.  He did a reasonable job for someone who has seemingly never completed a project.  Sure, it wasn’t a magical piece of pottery, but it sure as hell beat the clump of dirt he began with.  We set it out to dry so that we could seal/paint it the next day.  Tuesday came and I actually wasn’t dreading working with this student because of the great day he had the day before, for maybe the first time all year.  Well, my excitement was short-lived.  He walked into class, picked up his project violently (despite my appeals that he be very careful with some of the joints) and, of course, a tiny piece broke off of a fragile corner.  It really was an insignificant break, and I immediately explained to him that we would be able to repair it.  No sooner had the words left my mouth than the young man began to destroy the remaining piece of his project, all the while grinning at me diabolically.

Well, damn.  I can’t really allow students to just destroy their projects in a disruptive way like that, he was keeping the other students from doing their work, (both of which who have worked very hard on their projects), so I had to ask him to leave (not to mention he destroyed the assignment that he would have worked on.  What a frustrating thing.

Imagine starting a 500 piece puzzle.  You start out with the edges, and that comes along pretty well.  Piecing the inside is the tricky part.  You get frustrated (forgetting that you are doing this for fun!), beat your head against the wall, and then eventually press on.  Well, 400 pieces later, things are starting to come together, and it is starting to get easier.  You have fewer and fewer places to put your remaining pieces, making the process of elimination times easier.  Now imagine 400 pieces into your puzzle, you throw your puzzle and destroy your hard work in a rage.  I guess it might be cathartic, but if that is your only experience with puzzles, I find it a bit lacking.  To work and never see something to its conclusion, to feel the true catharsis of completing a challenging task.  There is something sad about it.

At the same time, I think there is an appeal in destroying something before it is complete.  It gives the author complete control over the artwork.  If I destroy my work before it is complete, I don’t have to worry about what other people think, or even how I think about my work.  Take that critics!  You can’t terrorize or hijack a work that I don’t allow you to see!   So, does the artist sacrifice all the joys of completion in order to maintain control when he destroys his work?

Control = Fear.

Thoughts in process.

wherever you are

It has been about a year-and-a-half since I moved to Aliquippa on a semi-permanent basis, and I think I can say, with almost complete certainty, that it has been the most difficult/worst year-and-a-half of my short life.  I have had a lot of people, from Aliquippa and from other communities, comment on the fact that this is  difficult place to live.  I have had a lot of people say things like, “What you are doing is so hard, I could never do it. I can’t imagine living there, etc.”  To which I want to reply, “bullshit.”  Normally I just smile and nod though, that is the Wilson in me.  I was pontificating to Ryan the other day about this.  The things that have made this last 18 months difficult have nothing to do with geography, or the physical, or even the social characteristics of Aliquippa.  In fact, you could transplant me anywhere and I still would have had a lousy 18 months.  And its all because of people.  My issues, challenges, frustrations, the things that have made me depressed, angry, etc., are people and relationships, and damned if they wouldn’t be every place I found myself in.  The converse, I suppose, in honesty, is also true.  The small bits and pieces of life that I have loved in my time here have been relationships, friendships and what not.  Damned if you do, damned if you don’t, wherever you are.

quick fix, fix, fix

Not much time to write, maybe this coffee will help me write faster thoughts:

• School is good, now ONLY teaching art, achievement unlocked.
• Starbucks is…not bad.
• House is so wonderful, trying to fill two more rooms and taking applications.
• Don’t miss the way Molly smelled, or her company for that matter.
• Rediscovered you can’t force an idea, they have their own natural gestation periods.  The poets talk of muses, it is a good analogy.  They sing when they want to sing, you just have to have your ear tuned for when they begin.  They sang today.
• Misconceptions about art: males who do art are most likely homosexual: “Oh, I just assumed, you know, because of the artwork, that you were gay.”
• Shame a man has to have a heart attack for you to realize how much you’ve grown to love him.
• Need a nick name for…

Steppes

Not much to say.  It is a new year.  Back at school things continue to move along.  We’re just about finished with our third clay project, and we’ve also intermittently been working on some different graphic elements projects (thanks Mrs. Harrigan!).  I’m starting to get into a rhythm in the art classroom, getting a better idea of how to run things.  Still have lots to learn about teaching computers/graphic design.  Have a four day weekend to brainstorm.  Back at Starbucks evenings keeps me busy and the steady income (and free coffee) is a huge plus.  Sort of a mindless/thoughtless job.  Nice to be thanked once in a while from customers though (something I am not afforded from my students).  In other news…that’s about it.

Currently reading: Steppenwolf, Hermann Hesse.  Finished a book of his poetry last week.  Solid.

And back again.

Yesterday morning I had an appointment to have my annual car inspection.  Beatrix needed a new tie rod.  Turns out my wheel could have fallen off.  Fortunately my dad is on vacation, and he was able to lend me his car for as long as I need it, until mine can get fixed and we can swap them out.  Unfortunately foul weather was afoot during all of this.  Decided it would be best to pack up and head back to PA early to try to out run the lake effect snow which was forecast.  I left Cato, NY at 2PM, and a drive that normally takes about 5.5 hours took me nearly 10.  The weather was miserable, and quite possibly the worst I have ever driven in.  Traffic was moving a steady 5-10mph through Buffalo, and the wind was blowing so hard that visibility was next to nill.  I was 6.5 hours in the car before I even stopped to take a break; I was worried if I stopped I wouldn’t be able to get back on the highway.  Stopped for coffee and dinner in Edinboro, PA.  After that the weather seemed to slightly clear, I even saw the moon and some stars as I approached Pittsburgh.  It was with great relief that I pulled into the parking lot at Celebration.  Watched a couple of episodes of House with Ryan and then slept deeply last night.  Got today completely free, no work until tomorrow evening.  Listened to Popular Songs almost 7 hours of the trip.  Gosh, I love the album.  There are three songs later on the record that combined account for a good 25 minutes of music.  Yo La Tengo style instrumentals….great for driving.  Been a while since I fell in love with an album like this.  Good thing Brian doesn’t live with me anymore, it drives him crazy to listen to the same music over and over.

Day 3 (and change)

Oreo hated her bath yesterday, but she needed it.  Her bout with the skunk this fall left her smelling something awful.  Mom walloped dad and I at Scrabble.  Prairie Home Companion was a bunch of reruns, but good to hear old Garrison.  Sat on the couch and watched a load of Belle and Sebastian and Yo La Tengo music videos on Youtube.  Went to bed early listened to more Yo La Tengo.

Woke up this morning to the sun shining through a cloud of fog.  Looked awesome outside.  Enjoyed the view from the front porch with a cup of coffee and a cigarette.  Oreo looked happy with her new clean coat.

Went to church and tried to stay awake during the Theology of Salvation class with moderate success.  Decided to snag a cup of coffee and a bagel between sunday school and the service.  Drove down to the lake and fell in love.  Traded punctuality and singing for worship outside.  The lake was serene, sky was blue.  Finally made it to church but was unsuccessful at remaining conscious.  This vacation has my sleeping schedule all awry.  Met up with a gentlemen from the church for coffee after the service, enjoyed a good chat.  Drove home, grabbed lunch, packed up, and went to Fair Haven with mom to do some hiking.  The lake was gorgeous.  Was maybe the best day hike I have been on, ever.

Came home, ate, napped.  Rob came over and joined mom, dad, and I for Scrabble.  I shined tonight.  Tomorrow getting my car inspected.

Day two-ish

Christmas eve service was typical.  Lots of singing as per the low-church evangelical paradigm.  Salvation was worked into the mix, again, as per the evangelical paradigm.  Do we lose the beauty of the incarnation when we focus on sin and conversion?  Was disappointed to see my parents church offering a revisionist history course: The American Heritage Series.  We are/were a christian nation and all that rot.  Came home and did some reading in Albert Camus’ The Stranger.  The sky was clear and the stars were magnificent, so I decided to bundle up and hike up the hill to get a good look at them.  The large drumlin near our house has been cleared for fields of soybeans, corn, and alfalfa, for all of my life.  From the highest point of the hill you can see in all directions without the trees blocking much of the view.  I love to go up there, every season, and look at the countryside.  To the south, east, and west, the view is spectacular: miles and miles of rolling drumlins.  The moon, even though it was only 2/3 full, was bright enough that I could hike through the forest without light, casting a shadow on the snow reflecting light.  I was bathed in silver moonlight.  The snow crunched under my feet and the woods were silent.  As I neared my star-gazing spot, a bit of goat fence with a gate I like to sit on top of, I noticed the silhouettes of a herd of deer just at the crest of the hill.  I was probably within 30 yards of them when they perked up and noticed me.  We stood staring at one another, the dozen or so of them, and me, alone on the hill under stars.  I stood still for a good eight minutes, and they stood like statues staring back at me.  When I finally moved, apologetically, they bolted off in all of their magnificence into the winter night.  From atop the goat fence the stars were glorious.  Some sparkled every color of the rainbow.  I have never seen stars as glorious as I do at home, I was lucky to get a clear night.   Came home and went for a drive.  Stopped in at the Colonial Inn for a drink and talked to strangers about Cato history.  Never seen a bartender so drunk.  My parents have told me stories about smoking pot and inhaling nitrous oxide in that place.  It was mostly elderly folks there during my experience.  Somewhat strange being at a bar on Christmas eve, sort of a melancholy atmosphere.

Christmas morning woke up late and drank some coffee.  Played more guitar on the enclosed porch which was 75 degrees with the sun slightly shining.  My dad built it this fall as his brainchild, has turned out magnificent.  More pileated woodpeckers on the apple trees.  My cousin Craig and his wife Liz came over for lunch, which was delicious.  Got socks, paint brushes, underwear and a book as gifts from mom and dad, a calendar from my sister.  Mom made yoghurt cheesecake for dessert, which was delicious.  Lots of visiting throughout the day, and caffeinated beverages.  Took another hour nap in the afternoon.  Read and watched Mystery Science Theater 30oo with dad.  Smoked and talked with mom and went to bed.

Today went and “worked” with my dad today at a soup kitchen. I brought my sketchbook, talked to people, and got walloped at chess a couple times.  Good fun.  Getting ready to give my dog Oreo a bath, then more reading for the afternoon.  Prairie Home Companion and Scrabble slated for the evening.  Life is good.