Street Utopia

C/O Street Art Utopia

Light, Reflection, Rain and nostalgia

Nostalgia: I miss the days where I didn't have to wake up at 6:30am and teach, go to work, and attend class.  I miss napping. I miss being able to paint. I miss sleeping 8 hours a night. I miss the feeling of having nothing to do. I miss irresponsibility.

Reality: I've never been happier. I am spending all my time doing things I love and setting the groundwork for a really fruitful future.

Out with nostalgia and in with reality, 2012. 

Washington County:The Birthplace of Texas.

http://www.birthplaceoftexas.com/Events-Past.htm

The Power of Vulnerability

As I embark officially on my teaching career this week (I am so excited!)  I have two things I wish I could show every student to create a type of  classroom atmosphere that fits with my style of knowledge sharing:

Always Wear Sunscreen


The Power of Vulnerability-TED talk
The Power of the Human Condition to be vulnerable

Even if you're not in a classroom, learning isn't always about grammar, syntax, language, it's also about creating strong youth to ensure a fruitful future. I am so excited that I get to spend my time (and get paid!) to do this.

I would definitely recommend checking out these two links.

absence.

If I am absent from here, check here-
I'm over here!

It's a blog, a scholarly exchange of ideas, an experiment for a course,  and I will be working on that site as well.

Freewrite!

One of my new years goals was to start writing more. I have accomplished that, somewhat, in-between new school and a new job in the 22 days that have been 2012.

I'm always afraid to share my writing openly, only because people are such harsh critics, but, with a new dose of self confidence and determination- I give you: Attempt 1.
A poem that was written frantically in the lines on my note taking page,  in a classroom that was 85 degrees.

It started out as this:

Nostalgia

I am from 4 seasons of  lifelong

change, adaptability and fading permanence. 

Pinetrees and mountains that gently

brush their fingertips on the skyline.

I am from prophetic working-class

utterances, whispered faintly between conversations,

weaving together hope like the entangled grapevine

that grew slowly and steadily in my old backyard.

And turned into this (a work still in progress)

I am from prophetic working-class  

utterances, whispered faintly between conversations,

weaving together hope like the entangled grapevine

that grew slowly and steadily in my old backyard,

between the uneven sidewalk and the sturdy plum trees

         (Even so, did you get what you wanted from this life?)

 The vines tangled themselves, speaking faintly

of my father’s forgotten dreams as I watched him

pull the lever on the lawnmower, again and again.

        

I ask myself, “Even so, did you get what you wanted from this life?”

My dreams now, they dance freely between the branches,

         growing plums and ripening grapes.

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I have three goals this year for my writing:

 1.  To write a poem that is published 
 2. To get published on The Thought Catalog.
3. To share what I write more, even if it isn't perfect. (much like the poem I just shared!)

Post-Riot Girl.

Not Every Girl is a Riot Girl

There is so much to be said here, but, honestly, as cheesy and cliche as it sounds, I am just going to let the music and visual aid speak for itself.