haircut appt. on Friday.

Inspiration?

Kiera Knightly

Dancin'

I performed a solo at church last week, in two different services. I was reluctant to do a "litergical dance" piece, especially since they asked me less than a week in advance. That said, they were smart enough to ask me to choreograph an interpretation of the text (a plus in itself), and then I improv'ed a bit to music.

The scripture was one of my favorite passages from Ezekiel--chapter 37, verses 1-14. It's quite rhythmic, and contains some lovely imagery about breath, bones, sinews, armies, desperation, conversations between God and humanity...things I like to dance about. I'm told it was a clear, powerful interpretation, but what's amazing is that I still haven't seen what I did. I have no idea what it looked like, because I choreographed it in my parents' den, and had them look at it before a short rehearsal at the church. It was nice to do that, because I felt like I dropped a lot of inner conflict from the forefront of my thinking, and just let myself be present with the things I have learned. I don't think that kind of spiritual renewal has happened to me for a long time. It felt real.

I tried to be somewhat safe, and a little dramatic (Thank you, Martha Graham) with the movement, but was still nervous about how it would be received. To my knowledge, people loved it, which I find surprising. After the first service, a family friend (whose theology is way more intense than mine) told me she was just imagining movement for that scripture "when [I] came out to dance." she said "it really ministered to me." After I thanked her, I told her something I think it's true: "It was powerful to me, too. Dancing's very spiritual for me, and I had missed it." I've missed church, too.

TZC

Music-"Dry Bones"

More Music.-[also] "Dry Bones"

"I said I am not fixin' to stroke out over somebody else's kids."

I have a lot to write about this week, most of which will go in a journal to send to dear Kenneth, who made a grand, brotherly gesture last time we spoke. I mentioned wanting to keep a log of observations, concerns, pros/cons, etc., and there he was with the suggestion to send it to him for comments: "I grade journals for the teachers in my classes anyway, so I'll just comment on yours while I am at it." How nice.

My other awesome brother has strep. Ouch. Poor Dave.

Anyway. I hope to make an art piece for my window nook and/or above the bed, inspired by the three-eyed mustache man and the bulldog-faced boy (see last post), but of my own design (mostly because I don't have $40 to spend on art I may not love forever). I'm looking to things like this for inspiration as well. I kind of want to use cork board, and extra black paint from a project at school.

Hmmm. Ciao for now.

new job! and etsy shopping.

Well, friends: my life's changed again. Not too much.

As it happens, the assistant to one of the teachers in the school sort of quit...was quit? Took quit? Specifically, she didn't show up for a few days, and the rest is hush-hush.

So, About a week ago, I was beginning to become curious as to whether my stay in Mrs. (Lady)'s room could last longer than a few days it might take to "figure things out." Just then, my principal invited me into her office and said "Unfortunately Mrs. (Lady) will not be returning. I am placing you in Mrs. (Other Lady)'s room for the remainder of this school-year. Can you handle it?" "Yes I can." I said.

So it is. Today, my voice is husky-syrupy-southern. My patience runs thin, my hair is getting long, and there's not much to think about except little ways to make things easier as I prepare for more school.

Plus, I seek wall art for my bedroom. This is proving to be a complicated endeavor. As it stands my room is entirely too ladylike with so many blank sky blue walls. I've thought of a lot of ideas--too many--to break up the space. I wanted to share the few possible results of my most recent etsy search, with my comments:

First, I give you a ladylike bit, even though that pretty much defeats the purpose. I just like this artist's paired-down watercolors of animals +...goldfinch.

This person's stuff makes me giggle, and it reminds me of the kind of art that shows up in random restaurants and bars in Downtown Wherever. I kind of feel like I need a little guy with a bulldog face or a mustache/three-eyes close by. Perhaps.

More to come, I'm sure, as I'll have less planning to do in the afternoons.

Joy-ciao,

TZC

Wellness update: The walkman mostly works, only...I forget how bulky a walkman is, and how into my workout I actually get. I think I can keep expanding my mind on the elliptical, though. I know y'all are thrilled to hear the news.

Speaking of news, there's some glum news about my job--It won't be there next year. The other day my boss came to the assistant's meeting to tell us about drastic budget cuts, and to say that it will affect our school in a big way ("I've never seen the budget like this"). I was collecting my thoughts after-the-fact, and was just about to go tell her that I was officially not coming back next year when I was called in and told that there wouldn't be a position there. It was actually kind of a relief, because when she closed the door and asked me to sit I thought she'd say don't come back after Christmas. Still, it's no good to be reminded of the terrible economy.

And so...I make paper snowflakes.

This one was missing a fold. I spent a lot of time on it, though, and want to find a use for it. Methinks...nativity? Am I missing little snow animals? Little snow couple? Little snow baby? Hmm. Good thing I saved the scraps. -TZC

Work me (out)!

My job leaves me tired and unmotivated to do much in terms of working out. This has left me glum and has made my heart rate kind of jumpy. However, I do tend to like to sit in the car and listen to talk radio a bit after school, pre-home, often over chick-fil-a, which wastes both time and money.

That said, I have a plan to combat several of the non-productive habits above, and a few not yet listed, by combining them:

Because I like to hear a calm voice talking to me about grown-up things right after a day of "MISS GRISWOLD! IT'S A WORM!!! (oooooh. That's a bug, baby.) IT'S A WORM BUG!!," because Daddy has several college courses-on-tape crowding the cabinet, because he has a walkman that is no longer getting any use, and because I need something to listen to that will both motivate me to go to the gym and allow me to chill on the elliptical (none of this: omg go fast-->wild and crazy heart rate), I plan to embark on a series of lectures. Subject matter? None other than the comedies and tragedies of Shakespeare. Body Fierce. Mind Fierce.

I'll let you know how it goes. Maybe in iambic pentameter.

Thena Z

"...But the fact was, the only four things that interested me were: reading books, going to the movies, tap dancing, and drawing pictures. Then one day I started writing not knowing that I had chained myself for life to a noble but merciless master. When God hands you a gift, he also hands you a whip; and the whip is intended solely for self-flagellation.

But of course I didn't know that...It was a lot of fun--at first. It stopped being fun when I discovered the difference between good writing and bad, then made an even more alarming discovery: the difference between very good writing and true art; it is subtile but savage. And after that, the whip came down!" -Truman Capote in the Preface to Music for Chameleons