Monday, February 27, 2012

Hi. One cat is asleep on the couch the other is somewhere else. Outside a man in a blue coat is walking down the side walk and two others, one a grey coat and one in a brown coat are behind him. It must be a little cold then. If I want to know what to wear I look out the window. A couple more are now walking down the same strip. One is wearing a hat. I could do this all day. If I want to know who is walking down the sidewalk I look out the window. Monday.

It's the fifth week of school. At some point today I'll enter the quarter point "progress grades" that are good indicators for students who have never been to class. On Friday a student came for the first time. It was the fourth class. I told him I was sorry, but it was too late to join. Another student used the term "blackie" in his memoir, and I gently let him know that it's not a word we in California often use. Other than that though, two good classes. More energy so far in the Thursday class but it's only a comparison if I make it one. It's hard to cover the same material twice and at the same time stay open to spontaneity. In other words, it's hard not to form attachments to the good things that happen in one class and want the same thing to happen in another.

The sun has come out in the time it took to write that last paragraph. It's been relatively chilly but only because it got up into the low seventies on Friday. February. It's so confusing what month it is. From a free write we did in class on Friday from the word Sun:
The sky is full of sun but instead of suns we call them stars, banks full of coins or cars full of gas. Our sky is full of stars. As we get closer we might call them suns but we won't get closer and there is no other way to know them. Points of light or pinholes in the canopy but it never feels like a jar and I don't live in a hole. As we zoom out we look small but there is no such thing as zoom a blade of grass to an ant an elephant standing next to a mailbox. There is the sun and there is scale. One is hot, the other an idea, cold as the heart of the speaker. A hole in the sky where instead of darkness light pours forth, somehow. The root of our evil not within us but eight minutes from us. All that is good.