I like Easter. In Minnesota, the snow has begun its retreat. Last night it rained in sheets and it thundered without end. Thundered. My thunderous mental applause ushered out the winter. My palms slapped together with “BRAVO winter. It was your most brutal ever.” I somehow thought summer had licked all other seasons, but now winter has clearly taken hold.
I haven’t worn socks in two days. I’m adjusting to some fairly large transformations, myself. The Foundry Creative Project is still moving forward, but I’m going to need to spend the next year or so seeking grants through like-minded partners in order to establish a history of grant management. I can do that.
My consulting practice has a brick and mortar office as of this June. June 1. Northeast Minneapolis.
I’m leaving the classroom, leaving the safety of a K-12 contract for the first time in 15 years. It’s invigorating. This summer, I am looking forward to working for as many districts as possible, on a contract basis. And now I have this space. I have a place to go work.
The Foundry Creative Project will grow. More details about the 2014 Creativity and Innovation Institute will surface soon. David Lynch meeting updates. Writing support at 160 13th Ave NE. Collaborative hosting.
Who is going to Ireland? Don’t miss it.
Did I say something about five posts per week? Did I seem to imply that this would occur immediately? Oh. My apologies. I’m awfully reliable, but when I’m in the incubation stage, beware of details. That’s the nature of incubation, of course. Percolation. Thinking and rumination.
Time is the thing that begets good thinks.
I’m going through an amazing transformation and it’s the least scary change I’ve ever experienced. Between teaching experimental and self-indulgent courses, I’m freelancing like a benevolent banshee, resisting an unhealthy lifestyle, and connecting diverse passions and people in a productive and sustaining manner.
The future’s so bright…
I wish I could share this with my dad. Others from the past would appreciate this, too: Uncle Jim, the Grandparents, Penny Thompson, Courtney, Jason, Tommy, Alex. Cheerleaders, all.
Man, this project keeps expanding. I look forward to sharing ideas I have for the coming year.
I need to do my taxes soon — alone for the first time (I’m ready.) Five posts per week may be tricky, yet I have no fear.
Join us in County Cork for a writing retreat offering craft workshops in the morning, time to write each afternoon, and Ireland 24 hours a day. On this getaway, creative intellectuals will generate good work, have that work critiqued, and work with Managing Editor Kate Gale and Writing Coach Jen Kohan to build the present and future of a published writing life. We combine workshop with coaching, and as a group, we combine Ireland with dialogue. Bring your laptop, your manuscript, and your capacity for sheer enjoyment. You’re in for a great time.
I’m a child in woman’s clothing:
Empty womb of grace and
But the never knowns unleash the everyones
And excess baggage turns to dust.
The winding furrow of the underground
Remembered quickly not to
Thread every eyelid shut,
Minutes wound behind sky.
As much as you might want to wear long walking shorts, unless you are sporting spectacular wedges, this is likely not a good idea. If you are a tiny sylph, then you might be able to hack it.
Patterned tights are also a mistake. Same goes for textured tights.
No one should launch headong into jeggings or their ilk without serious, prolonged reflection. Choose comfort over looking like a sausage casing, and allow them with tall boots. Restrict them to tall boots.
Deep, plunging v-necks are essential for those of us with curves, but I always like to channel Victoria Beckham when she cautions to show either the bosom or the legs, but never both. It’s the same philosophy at the old, “make up the eyes or the lips, but never both.” Avoid being garish … except if you love garish. Then, by all means — lush it up.
“Never love anybody who treats you like you’re ordinary.”
I find paintbrushes everywhere.