Chicago Foreshadowing

The trip to Chicago is long. And to drive that trek twice in two days. Ew.

However, the trip was good. I went down for a student teacher orientation thingy for next fall. So on Friday morning, I showed up at the offices and met the coordinators and most of the other student teachers that will be there next fall. There will be 14 of us next fall.

We visited a couple of the area high schools. One of them, Kenwood Academy, is most likely going to be the one I will student teach in. They have the teacher and the department head of the high school on board for me to be there, just have to get the new Principal to okay it. They kept telling the three of us that will be there that we are 90% in.

Kenwood is on the south side of Chicago (but don't freak out, it's in a good neighborhood). Chicago Semester is really particular about the schools they send us into; they don't send us into schools that are really rough. They want the experience to be positive, not scaring...

The student body is about 1790 students, 89% are black, and 79% are under the poverty line. However, they have a very high academic standard and a high college bound number of seniors. I briefly met the English department head and my cooperating teacher as they rushed out to go to class. I don't remember my cooperating teacher's name, but he seemed very cool. It works great, he teaches English and two theatre classes, so I can teach both without having to switch cooperating teachers. Makes it so much easier that way. It was really cool getting to walk around the school, see the passing periods and the energy of the school. I'm really excited.

And scared.

But not as scared as I was before. I have a feeling my biggest issue will be the long commute, probably about an hour every morning and afternoon.

More than anything, the short trip was reassuring. I feel good about my choice to spend a semester there. There is no doubt that it will be a very challenging semester, but I have a feeling that afterwards, I will feel as though I conquered the world. I'm excited for it. And I love Chicago. It's a great city.

So, that was a quick recap of my quick trip. Exciting stuff, huh?

Until next time.

Limited Coloring

My colors seem...limited.

For the current show in production, I have been placed on light crew. I'll be honest, lighting is my absolute least favorite part of theatre. That's not where my skill or love is found when it comes to theatre. I'm so grateful God gave other people that passion, because I just don't have it. However, I am envious of their color options.

I was assigned to cut gels (colored plastic put in lighting fixtures to make the light shine that color). So there I was, pulling out sheets of gels, looking for the right color. The paper said to cut 12 of the R33 pink and 1 of the R333 pink. I pull them out of the shelves.

They look exactly the same to me.

I have very, very little idea of how colors work for lights. I'm pretty sure that red, blue, and green create white light when added together. I don't get it, but I'm fairly confident that I'm remembering that right. How the difference in R33 and R333 shows up on stage, I don't have any idea. But the difference must be there, otherwise there'd be no point in choosing one over the other.

Lights are magic, don't you think? I think so. Everything changes with lights. Costumes look different, sets look different, actors act different. Lights are game changers. And the scope of color possibilities are limitless. That's something to be a bit green with envy about.

Last night I went to a rehearsal for a show that some friends are producing off campus that opens this week. They are performing in a coffee shop that hasn't been open for almost four years, it's falling apart, really sketchy. Their lights are just clamp lamps run through an extension cord to a power strip. Reminded me of lighting last summer when I was in Waco.

Yet, with such simple lighting, it was still magic. Maybe I'm just easily excited about magic in the form of watching beautiful things happen, but there is something about it that never gets old. It doesn't take much to do something spectacular. 

I love colors. The brighter the better (usually). I guess it was a good reminder that even on a crew that I don't like, there is something to be appreciated, even if it seems as simple as flimsy pieces of colored plastic.

Until next time, color your world.

Purple Hands

"I loves to hug up, period, she say. Snuggle. Don't need nothing else right now.
Yeah, I say. Hugging is good. Snuggle. All of it's good.
She say, Times like this, lulls, us ought to do something different.
Like what? I ast.
Well, she say, looking me up and down, lets' make you some pants.
What I need pants for? I say. I ain't no man."
                 -- The Color Purple  by Alice Walker

Today as I was walking back to my apartment, for some reason this is the thought I had: "All I really want is someone to hold my hand." It's kind of a strange thought to have out of the blue, but not so strange that I didn't know where it came from.

I love holding hands. There is something about it that seems so intimate, so meaningful, so safe. When you're a little kid, you hold your parent's hands. When you are having a bad day and end up on a friend's couch crying, she holds  your hand. A group of people gather in prayer, holding hands. To hold someone's hands is to share a connection, a small moment in the middle of lots of other moments.

I love hugs for the same reason. So maybe I just need someone to hug me and hold my hand. I think that's why I was drawn to the little excerpt from The Color Purple. The exchange is between two friends who are laying in bed together, both are married, though not happily. They share a bond with each other that is beautiful and broken and messy, as all friendships are. Maybe that is part of the beauty of friendship. Despite the messiness of it, you can't imagine not being a part of that person's life.

Until next time, I want to hold your hand. 

Escaping

This week I've been reading. I have been reading. Reading. Books. Not textbooks. Not internet sites. Real, fiction, fun books.

It's been wonderful.

Today I had an afternoon and evening free, interrupted by two hours of supper/tech rehearsal. At 1:30 I began reading "The Hunger Games." Tonight at 9:00 I finished reading "The Hunger Games."

Very good book within the realm of adolescent literature. Not Harry Potter standards, but how many Harry Potter's can one generation have? But it kicked Twilight's sparkly ass.

It just felt good to escape. I didn't have to leave my couch, but I was able to escape. Christmas was the last time I got to escape into a book. I've missed it. I've missed being able to focus on someone else's problems, problems I can do nothing about (which isn't that different from my problems right now) but keep reading.

Now I only wish I had gotten tickets to the midnight premiere tonight. Oh well, soon enough.

For some reason, I always tend to forget the affect books can have on me when they aren't assigned to me or so boring I can't  see straight. It's much easier and smarter to run away into a book, even if just for a few hours, than it is to get in my car and run away. Cheaper too, I suppose. Although, the thought has crossed my mind more than once the past few weeks...

So, I'll just keep reading. Escape for a bit here and there, remember why I love words so much.

Until next time, escape for a bit, read a book.

Saturday Knowledge

This is what I know today:

1. The difference between extirpated and extinct species.

2. It is too early in the year to turn on AC in our apartment. Open windows are way, way better.

3. How to create a pie graph.

4. Doing homework off campus usually has higher productivity rates when in proper settings.

5. I'm a terrible one-act director -- I forgot I had rehearsal this afternoon.

6. Sometimes all you need after a day of filling out science study guides is to watch Heavy Weights with you roommate.

7. I can't wait for a Saturday spent being unproductive. Oh wait, that was last Saturday...and the Saturday before...

Until next time.

Musical Words

Tonight I went to watch my roommate and the a cappella choir. It was fantastic. I want to share the lyrics of a song they sang. It is a translation of an Estonian folk song. Wikipedia tells me Estonia is in the Northern Baltic part of Europe, by Finland and Sweden. Learn something everyday, don't you?

When I was very little, al'leaa,
I grew so prettily, al'leaa,
I was but one night old, al'leaa,
Just two days old,
Mother took my cradle to the meadow,
Put my crib on the heath,
Put a duck to rock the cradle,
The bird of summer to push me.
The duck had many words,
The bird of summer had lots of songs,
The duck sang many songs to me there,
The bird of summer, it spoke to me a lot.
That is where this child learned the songs,
This crazy one got to know the words,
All of them I placed on paper,
All of them I hewed into a book.
That is why I have so many words,
That is why I have lots of tunes.

I think I like this so much because it makes me think of where my words come from. We are shaped so much by what we've gone through, who we've gone through it with. I can tell you about growing up on a farm, about the time I dyed my hair with Kool-aid, how I spent my summer teaching kids theatre, how I learned to love reading from my father, how I sing aloud with the radio like my mom.

All of these things are put on paper, hewed into a book. Or at least into my memory. That is why I have so many words.

Until next time, where are your words from?

Family Farm

I have started sitting in on Agricultural Imagination class Wednesday nights. Three hours of farm and book talk. I enjoy it. Tonight while we listened to a 30 minute NPR program, I wrote a poem about my farm. About my family.

This farm is family.
This is where my grandfather was raised.
This is where my father was raised.
Down the road 3/4 of a mile is where I was raised.
This is where my family's heart beats.
Where my father prays against hail.
Where my grandfather asks about crop prices
Even though he hasn't been in a tractor for eight years.
This is what my father came back to.
This is what my grandfather came back to.
Sweating in the sun, freezing in the snow,
Swearing at broken machinery,
Laughing at kids standing in a line on the fences.
This is where my grandfather drove a tractor.
This is where my father drives a tractor.
This is where I drove a tractor
(Though not very well or often).
This is where hard work is deep in bones.
Where my grandfather was expected to carry on the family farm.
Where my father chose to bring his young wife to carry on the family farm.
Where I am not expected to carry on the family farm
And am thankful for that.
And even though I don't plan on moving back to the farm,
That is where my roots are.
That is where I picked apples,
That is where I hunted gophers with grandpa,
Where I picked lilacs for grandma's table,
Where I played with tractors in the driveway,
Where I fed chickens and cows and horses,
Where I watched thunderstorms from the porch.
Where I hear a father's worry and see a mother's seasonal loneliness.
This farm is a part of me,
A part of my father,
A part of my grandfather.
This farm is family. 

Until next time.

Little Artist

"Designing to me is an art in itself with all the arts participationg.
You must be 
       an architect for your sense of measurement
       a sculptor for your silhouette
       a painter for your palette
       and a musician to realize the rhythm and movement of the dress."
--Jack Edwards, costume designer

I have thought about creating a lot lately. Not only did I spend a bulk of my spring break looking at other's creations, but I've taken the time to create a bit as well.

The more I think about what will happen in eight weeks (eek!), the more I realize that I just want to make things. I want to spend my days painting and writing and sewing and directing.

Problematic.

I don't know yet how to meld the two. I don't even know what the two or three or four things are that I'll be doing. I don't  know anything. I don't like not knowing.

I just want to be an architect...a sculptor...a painter...a musician...an artist. I just want to be an artist.

Until next time.

Apple a Day

Part of our spring break adventure was leaving a fake apple wherever we stop. We did pretty well. Here's the pictures we remembered to take.

An apple for Gypsy.

 An apple left in the bathroom at the Jazz church.

 An apple left in a diorama at the Natural History Museum.

 An apple left in a basket of other fake fruit at an antique shop.

 An apple for Beckie.

 An apple left in a coffee shop.

 An apple left on a giant spoon and cherry.

 An apple left at an apartment that had a baby.

 An apple left for Dan and Becca on their wine tree.

 An apple for Aleah at the Guthrie theatre.

 An apple left on a printing press.

 An apple left in Aleah's fake fruit bowl.

 An apple left at a costume design exhibit.

 An apple left in the University of Minnesota library.

 An apple for the tattoo artist.

 An apple for the poets.

 An apple left on a sheep pelt.

 An apple left with a hungry, hungry caterpillar.

 An apple left on a goat gate.

 An apple left at a hardware store.

I'm missing a few pictures, but you get the gist. Lots of apples.

Until next time, have an apple.

Break Recap

The bulk of my spring break has come to an end. There are still a few days left, and the dorms aren't open yet, so there are still some adventures to be had, but they will stay mainly around the OC area. Since some of you may be curious (and even if you're not), I'll give you a quick run down of what my break consisted of. Details, if worth mentioning, will come later.

Friday:
-Left Orange City around 6:00.
-Blew out a tire in Minneapolis on the interstate.
-Got help from an amazing woman and changed the tire.
-Arrived at Aleah's house around 12:00.

Saturday:
-Hung out at Aleah's house.
-Got a new tire for Meghan's car.
-Went into Minneapolis to a small concert for local bands at a bar.
-Left before headline band played because two of the three opening acts were awful.
-Arrived at Dan's house and crashed.

Sunday:
-Went to church at a Methodist church that has a jazz worship service. Wonderful.
-Visited Gypsy.
-Went to the Natural History Museum and looked at lots of taxidermy.
-Went to a fantastic antique stop that was connected to an adorable cupcake/coffee shop.
-Found a really great second hand store. Bought a pair of earrings.
-Arrived at Beckie's house in time for late supper.
-Went to a coffee shop and read Spectrum submissions from 10:30 to 12:30.

Monday:
-Went to the Walker Sculpture garden. It was freezing. But neat.
-Warmed up at a coffee shop.
-Visited the Museum of Russian Art. It was fantastic.
-Had spaghetti with Beckie and her dad.
-Wandered around the Mall of America for a few hours. Bought nothing.
-Arrived at Jacque's house around 10:00.

Tuesday:
-Visited Minneapolis Institute of the Arts.
-Invaded Dan's apartment so we could cook lunch.
-Went to a great surplus store. Bought a hot glue gun for two bucks. Yay!
-Got a back stage tour of the Guthrie theatre from Aleah. Very cool.
-Visited the Open Book coffee shop and Minnesota Center for Book Arts. Loved it. Internship possibility? Hmm...
-Went to Aleah's house around 6:00.
-Read Spectrum and watched Tangled.

Wednesday:
-University of Minnesota had a design exhibit of Jack Edwards, a really fantastic costume designer. It was beyond amazing.
-Visited the U of M's library. Or one of their libraries. We're kinda nerds...
-Meghan got a tattoo on her ankle.
-Went to second hand craft and clothes stores. I bought nothing.
-Stayed with a group of Heemstra Alumni. Interesting guys...

Thursday:
-Went to the Como Zoo. Saw some animals. Zoo stuff, you know...
-Hung out in a library for a couple hours.
-Went to Isaiah's house.
-Watched Despicable Me and Scooby Doo.

Friday:
-Held baby goats.
-Watched Shelby and Meghan milk a goat.
-Bottle fed a day old lamb.
-Drove to Orange City.
-Visited the 60 foot talk Jolly Green Giant statue. Threw bouncy balls at it.
-Got lost on the detour.
-Made it to Abby's house around 9:00.

Hokey toots. No wonder we're all so tired. More to come now that we have broken our facebook/internet fast for break and will have time to blog. Maybe.

Until next time, what adventures have you had?

Four Minutes

I have four minutes, then I have to start writing a paper. Here's what I know:

1. I have to start saying no. I cannot do it all. Even if I really, really want to.

2. I am really, really lucky for the people in my life.

3. I love coffee ice cream.

4. Spring break is so close, yet so far away. And by far, I mean a paper and a bibliography away.

5. I'm so excited for my spring break adventure. More on that later.

6. My mind just went completely blank...

7. I don't want to write a history essay.

8. One minute. Just enough time to post this.

Until next time.