My backyard is an almost. I have put my square foot boxes in and some plots of topsoil/peat moss/ and other good stuff. The kitchen windows have lots of dixie cups full of dirt and sprouts. I am so hungry for the garden salad, for the sprouts to grow into things I will cook up, for all the potential energy to be actual.

goodnight,
Rachael

I'm sitting in an almost abandoned University library the day after graduation. I'm mostly here to look up details and ideas for my short story gone astray (in my short short a feminist historian takes a job as a tour guide at the Margaret Mitchell house and wacky hijinks ensue...well, not really, but I wanted to write that). I've got this book sitting next to me and I truly have looked at it a couple of times.
But I am also wondering if I want to wear my art history hat again and start taking classes towards a possible phD in visual studies. It would be more than 11 years after I earned an MA in art history and a grad certificate in museum studies. 11 years after I realized that I liked writing a zine and teaching 2nd graders to make cartoons more than I liked sitting in the library. But I keep getting pulled back to art history and visual studies questions. I seem to be addicted to going back to school (yep, I am currently enrolled in two non-credit classes and I can't really remember a time when I wasn't taking or teaching something), it could be a fine lark.
Did I really just write that? Did I seriously think I might have fun to go back to the land of graduate studies?
That's what I intend to find out. Can I jump feet first into juicy research? Can I learn at my own pace (in the pockets of free time I have left over after full-time job, painting, gardening, being a real friend, and maybe even someday raising a rugrat)? Can I learn in a collaborative not combative environment? Can I ask questions of a public nature (who has access to art? How do artists find communities?) and then find ways to apply the answers to real situations?
Of course there is still a process of application and what not, but now it's time to sit outside in the sun a bit and then bend the ear of the head of the department. I figure my gut has been good about leading me to good situations and environments where I can learn, contribute, help in some way so today is a chance to test it. Sure I might decide not to apply and sure they might decide not to accept me but it's all a learning process and I need to have some gumption.

take care now,
Rachael

I'm busy tying together some loose strands of ideas into one coherent short story. It's certainly not brewed yet but my class includes a lot of workshopping (where we will be reading and critiquing each other's stories) so I am trying to get a draft that others can read. I'm remembering how much I like to make up stories. Controlling other people's lives is a real joy, particularly when there are few real-life consequences.

The lilacs in my backyard are in full glorious bloom now. Smelling delightful.
And this finally, is a photo from my penland adventure last year. I had just met these two little boys and we were having a high time of painting.

take care,
Rachael

Just had my writing class and I'm spinning my wheels trying to come up with 1000 words worth reading (and the order they're supposed to go in, even). The class seems like it will be a good one and one suggestion was to look up good short short writers. The list had some new names on it but treading in the familiar is...well...comfy. So, I am already stuck on one I already know I like to read even if I haven't seen it in a million and a half years.

Who knew, though, that there was/ is/will be so much Don Barthelme on the web. I wrote a letter, cautious Miss Mandible and all of the mistakes made, and poor Colby.

I've got to come up with some words in some sort of order in a few short days and I might be able to rub some sticks together for a small fire but I sure can't do tricks like that. I guess education is all about learning new tricks, not about walking into the room knowing everything. Good thing.

Rachael

Happenstances yesterday sparked some thought about where and how we live. We were cleaning, clearing, sorting out stuff and in the process considering how we want to live in this house, this neighborhood, this world. Not all of our questions were sorted out of course but we did find a more pleasing arrangement of the bedroom and side room (we have floor now! and surface!).


Yesterday was also my Dad's birthday and his gift, a book of historical photographs by photograher Evelyn Cameron of Eastern Montana, was full of memories for him. He's in upstate New York and has been for over 30 years but he still dreams of Montana.

While online buying the book, I stumbled upon a video by The Resident. I watched a bunch of Lori's videos, which seem to focus on her engaging interviewing style, smart questions, fearlessness, and perfect teeth. Seemed the best kind of honest inquiry based on what the asker is most interested in, like what I used to love from the zines (like Cometbus and The East Village Inky.)

Later, I started to re-read the copy of Walden I found in the cleaning frenzy. Where I lived, what I lived for. hit meThis is a 1908 photo of what remained of Thoreau's cabin on Walden pond. Much more good Thoreau is on this server and these folks seem to be continuing the legacy.


So, now with a day off and a lot more sorting to do I am back to wondering how we live, and piling up old clothes for the salvation army...

Rachael