 |
| night. |
leaving the city for a few days. mmhmm.
8/10/12
8/9/12
8/8/12
wednesday.
 |
| blank. |
i tried twice to plug the hole with cardboard and packing tape before the fish escaped. i watched it search for water. a monkey fell near by. my cousin caught a dragon underneath the leather couch and let it go. a little girl in line told me to shut up. i ratted her out to the teacher. her story didn't match up with mine. i felt guilty afterward.
8/7/12
tuesday.
 |
| 1, 2, 3. |
a row of houses turning neon colors along with the sunset. i couldn't find delilah's. i lost my purse. 50 miles from milwaukee avenue. in need of a canoe and 6 towels. they made me steal the towels from the gym.
8/6/12
monday.
 |
| working. |
i'm rifling through a stack of drawings. they're matted in bright white cardboard frames. everyone's giggling in a circle.
8/5/12
sunday.
 |
| hydrant. |
a bunch of us were in a park. i asked if we needed permission to lay down the strange shapes we'd made. the hat worn by the woman in charge tipped down over her face. she smiled. we all watched from the center as young people in pairs began to move the pieces around in the grass.
8/3/12
friday.
 |
| alley. |
places matter. their rules, their scale, their design include or exclude
civil society, pedestrianism, equality, diversity (economic and
otherwise), understanding of where water comes from and garbage goes,
consumption or conservation. they map our lives.
-rebecca solnit.
8/2/12
thursday.
 |
| hallway. |
a sliver of sunlight on the floor of the porch. painting over what i thought was working. nearing 7.
8/1/12
7/31/12
tuesday.
 |
| sky. |
a horse was tied to a tall tree just outside the revolving doors. a woman in a purple tank top rubbed his neck. a small crowd of people formed near them. i watched for a minute before unlocking my bike.
7/30/12
7/29/12
7/28/12
saturday.
 |
| floor. |
i had an easier time on the machine today. i was also reminded about how much i love volleyball. on my walk to the grocery store after the game i thought about high school and seeing my parents in the stands.
7/27/12
7/26/12
7/25/12
7/24/12
7/23/12
monday.
 |
| texture. |
in between the teeny breaks i can see the color blue. someone's chirping. and grilling.
7/22/12
7/21/12
saturday.
 |
| zig-zag. |
we were throwing clothes from the back of a truck. i couldn't remember the combination to my locker. high heels on an incline.
7/20/12
7/19/12
7/18/12
7/17/12
7/16/12
7/15/12
7/14/12
7/12/12
7/11/12
wednesday.
 |
| flipping. |
what'dya guys wanna see? a small performance in the courtyard. paint and gymnastics.
7/10/12
7/8/12
7/7/12
saturday.
 |
| clouds over the lake. |
he tapped his fingers on the table as they administered the test booklets. i recognized a few people in the room. i dipped my thumb in invisible ink and pressed it on the answer sheet above my signature.
7/6/12
7/5/12
7/4/12
7/3/12
tuesday.
 |
| reflection. |
we walked to state and went underground. heading north, i watched the students. what would it be like if this were new to me? i wondered what they were thinking.
7/2/12
7/1/12
6/30/12
6/29/12
6/28/12
thursday.
 |
| looking. |
we walked in through the revolving doors. i handed them a small list of questions. we talked as a group about what they were drawn to.
6/27/12
wednesday.
 |
| footprint. |
walking shares with making and working that crucial element of
engagement of the body and the mind with the world, of knowing the world
through the body and the body through the world.
-rebecca solnit.
6/26/12
6/25/12
6/24/12
6/23/12
saturday.
 |
| see you later. |
the kids were three years older now. we cut paper and passed the pieces around in a circle. we tried not to laugh. the girl with the pony-tail stared out the window. i walked from the front of the room to the back. i knew what i was doing.
6/22/12
6/21/12
6/19/12
6/18/12
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)