Abstract and Landscape
Nebula, oil on canvas, 20”x20” Once upon a time I saw myself as (primarily) a writer, and I did my morning pages every day for work without fail. Nowadays my job starts earlier, and there is no time for morning pages or sketches. Sometimes that disconnects me from art like a bird not flying for… Continue reading How Do You Do?
You would rather paint today, but there are things you know you should be doing. You should be writing and working on your project, whispers your conscience. But the laptop closed with the last task. If you were really a writer, you would. Admonishment doesn't fire up the keyboard. Instead it makes paintbrushes heavy with guilt,… Continue reading Would, Should, Will Do
I've been sending out resumes for weeks, but today was the first morning in weeks that I set an alarm. Job searching is rolling a rock up almost to the top of the hill each day just to watch it crash into a ravine as the sun sets. It’s a slow-drip infusion of limbo, and… Continue reading One Battle, Many Fronts
Yesterday I went to the hospital for more bloodwork, including a coronavirus antibody test. Pain in my chest and lungs still keeps me mostly sedentary, with the exception of our daily walk. Even though I walk only a few additional feet traveling between my bedroom, study and living room, but it feels as if those… Continue reading Journey of a Thousand Miles
In my classroom there are long rows of hanging shelves containing multiple copies of different novels for my kids to read. Next to my little brown desk, however, I keep single copies of various books that I am reading with students one-on-one or, in my “free” Time at the suggestion of various students. My little… Continue reading Everyday Art
Still on the Group W Bench together It started with a writing prompt a few days ago. Write a scene with no more than four characters that happens in one room. It was a good assignment, but at first it took me to some very dark places before I remember I was in control of… Continue reading Don’t Go There
When grading papers or doing homework, I always have music or reruns on in the background. I want white noise. When I write early in the morning, the only soundtrack I need is the sound of scribbling which, surprisingly, sounds like two cats purring and a little dog happily groaning as light starts to fill… Continue reading Sounds of Scribbling
My problem is not finding enough couch-friendly inspiration to keep busy on a rainy quarantine Friday. The problem is picking one creative battle and ignoring the distractions of social media and mindless TV watching to stick with it. The day was about, as we say at school, "making good decisions", in this case just one… Continue reading Making Good Decisions
I love special education because it’s all about finding the spark in someone and helping it glow. It’s an act of hope informed by evidence. I’m housebound now and spending too much time on social media. The temptation to give into fear or despair is great, but the same internet that serves up daily examples… Continue reading Front Row at the Renaissance
We lost an hour of sleep on Saturday night. I couldn’t fall asleep until after midnight on Sunday night, and I had to be up by 4:30 on Monday to drive to a teachers’ workshop in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont. I was excited, but, for once, I wasn’t nervous. When I worked in IT,… Continue reading Ladies (and Gentlemen) of the Club
During the first week of my recovery I wrote constantly. When the second, unexpected week of incarceration began, I still wrote more than usual, but, after teaching for almost a year now, I discovered I suddenly missed being around people. Ten years of working at home once had me trained to prefer solitude, but last… Continue reading Rest for the Working
I got as much homework as possible finished before the surgery, leaving a little to do on Sunday. Sleeping off the anesthetics and first round of pain killed time on Friday night, but Saturday was completely unscheduled. The unusually un-booked day unexpectedly gave me one answer to a question we’ve all asked ourselves every time… Continue reading Blessed Boredom
Rachel Barlow Art 