Day 3 – Feelin’ Sassier.

I’m not gonna lie, y’all. I’m TIRED. Like, walked in the door, kicked off my shoes, made a hot chai and hit the bed tired. This is going to take some getting used to. But now I’m sitting in the warmth of a bed. Winning.

Today started off a little crazy. I woke up late (5:45 instead of 5:15, eeeesh), made a breakfast and forgot it until the last minute, hunted for my phone for fifteen minutes (how I could look that long for it in my tiny apartment, I have no idea. I found it in my robe pocket. Really?), packed all my weekend bags and loaded them up in the rain, had to stop and get gas when I was already running ten minutes late, people driving like the world is ending…. it was nuts. Shake my head. BUT! I got more coffee creamer and found my favorite coffee in Keurig form:

8 O Clock Original -- there a few coffees better than this one.

8 O Clock Original — there a few coffees better than this one.

I had some good, easy, fun (oh, those words are so wonderful) conversations with our students today.  In first period students talked about their cars and trucks while I embroidered in my visual journal (can I just say I missed that thing?). Second period we went to the Nicholson Center to hear Theresa Edwards, four time gold-medal winning Olympic basketball player, give a motivational speech. I love that great athletes give speeches that can relate to everyone. One line brought me to tears:

There is no secret to hard work.

Now, ain’t that one of the truest things you’ve ever heard?

photo 2

Bowers’ amazing cupcake collection.

Third period is planning, and I just want to say that my teacher is a phenomenal woman. I was so fortunate to know her and have her before this, but to see her as a teacher from a teacher’s perspective now is something else entirely. She is one of 6 incredible educators who has changed me, permanently.

Three of our boys decided to work with clay in 5th period today and I worked with them. Chase threw a cup, Reid pulled his first cup and Dean centered and started his first vessel, too. I didn’t realize that a sense of pride so strong comes from knowing you helped a student learn something new. Reid threw his first cup, and I found my teacher and asked her to come look. I was so proud of him, and the look on his face when he thinned those walls for the first time will hopefully be an image I remember for ages.  I felt so at ease in the clay room and I wasn’t exactly expecting that. While I have EXPERIENCE with clay, I definitely am lacking in the finesse category. But the right words to say came a little easier today. I found myself giving tips and pointers: “keep as much water out of the inside of the cup as you can” “don’t let the wheel spin too fast after you’ve started to pull — the momentum can throw your cup off center” “Remember, Reid, equal pressure through both arms.” I’m not bragging or trying to give myself props… but I was proud of myself today. It felt more tangible — the idea of being able to communicate instructions and assistance to students. They understood me, and furthermore, listened. I felt confident for the first time since Wednesday (I know, that’s only two days, but those first two days are seriously intimidating and seem so important).

The APeepers (AP Art students) are trying to sort out their concentrations and one of our ladies wanted to try a new painting inspired by Philip Barlow:

Philip Barlow

Philip Barlow

So we took two of her classmates, dressed ’em out and went outdoors to give a shot of our own. Here are my favorites from today:

Kayleigh and AB

Kayleigh and AB

Kayleigh and AB

Kayleigh and AB

I am so excited to see Libby work on these.

I’m feeling a bit of inspiration of my own — I’ve been working on my visual journal and plan to start a new project next week. I’m thinking a painting? Here are small blips of my sources of inspiration this week:

Week 1 Inspiration

Week 1 Inspiration

Time for dinner. I’m going to plan a project to start next week. I’ll fill you guys in… I might even blog over the weekend! Okay, Tommy is poking me, and harassing me until we eat, so I guess I better go eat my Bullrito’s.

 

Is it really just around the corner?

I woke up this morning and reached over to grab an embroidery piece I’m working on. It’s for my father and his new wife in their new home. As I’m working on my backstitch, I remember that I learned this in a classroom. I dyed the fabric I’m stitching on. I own 8 embroidery hoops.

My living room has two containers of yarn and knitting needles. The wash rag by my sink is stained from paint. My desk top is completely collaged. I have prints framed in my living room. How beautiful is my life?

Next semester I begin student teaching. These next two months will be my last months in a classroom that will not be partially my own… The last time saying, “oh, I have an 8 am” or “I’m just so ready for this crit to be done so I can breathe again.” My last time wandering the Dodd as a student. The last time I will just be “Kaitlynn” when I am in the school. What is my life?

Is the next step really so close to me? I can finally see the stairs and I am beside myself with excitement. I’ll miss UGA and everything it has given me, but words could never share how ready I am to have students of my own; to change lives and be changed, to make art because I want to, to have students that share their lives with me, or even just one who will. I am so ready to make my life into creative material…

Some fine art majors scoff at art education as a program… Some belittle it or believe it to be meaningless. I giggle. My major is incredible. I learn about myself every single day sitting in these classes. I get to CHOOSE what studios I take, what my emphasis is, what grades I want to teach, what is important to me and what is not. Not only that, everything I learn is intended to be passed along to fresh minds. I get to share everything I know and I want to. Sure, we discuss professional dress and the standards and what we should and shouldn’t say. We also learn how others learn so that we may flex and accommodate all of our students. We talk about what is worthy of art making (which just so happens to be every detail in your life), we discuss why we are passionate and what we care most about, the actual innocence level of children, writing curriculum as a creative act, not as a chore, appropriating standards so they may become helpful tools instead of chains which we are locked to. Why we matter…

Am I shaking in my shoes at the thought of teaching? Of course. But my fear never outweighs the time I have waited, the struggle I have endured, the fire in my heart that fuels the want for this next timeframe in my life.

To my students I have not yet met: I love you already. You bring out amazing things in me — thoughts I did not know I was capable of creating. I want to change your life in some small way and I know you will change mine.

“Be who you were created to be and you will set the world on fire.
St. Catherine of Sienna