Paint It Red

Elijah's dad drove away in his jeep, leaving Grandma to watch him for the afternoon. It was a gorgeous day. Elijah played quietly in his sandbox, very focused on measuring precise amounts of sand after putting it through a sifter. Grandma sat close by in a lawn chair, pestering him with questions, testing him on his numbers and colors, repeatedly interrupting the flow of his play.

-- Do you like being four? she asked.

No response.

--Do you like being four years old?

--No! Elijah shot back assertively.

--No? Why don't you like being four?

(He walks away towards the driveway)

-- I don't like being four. I'm gonna take your car away, he said.

--You're gonna take my car away? But you're not old enough to drive, protested Grandma in the whiniest voice.

--I'm gonna drive it. And I'm gonna make it black.

--How you gonna do that Elijah? Paint it?

--I'm gonna paint it. Paint it Red.

(He starts to walk away again)

-- Where are you going? Come here Elijah. Look at these berries I have. Now are they blueberries or raspberries?

(He ignores her, keeps walking)

-- I'm tired of you, said Elijah with much sincerity.

-- You're tired of me? Well that's too bad, your stuck with me. I'm watching you. You don't have a choice, said Grandma, obviously taking his comment very personally. Then she shuffled him inside as the sun shot spears of glorious light all over the backyard.

You need to learn to be patient, Chris

Several weeks ago a child in one of the preschool rooms who loves the Beach Boys asked if I could play Surfin' USA during our music session. So I learned the song and we turned it into a fun dramatic play game with everyone pretending to balance on a surfboard, wipe out when a big wave hit, and paddle out on our tummies like real surfers do.

Of course the kindergarteners took this activity to another level when I presented it to their class. They used the large unit blocks as surf boards and acted out more complex scenarios in between my renditions of the song. Then about half the class really wanted to take the game outside, which we did.

We had even better blocks on the playground to use as surf boards and it just made more sense to "surf" outside, even though we are many miles from the ocean here in the landlocked Hoosier state.

They really wanted me to surf too so I joined them while the other half of the class played a baseball game. It took a long time for the "surfing" to get going though, as the children decided they needed to wet down their boards with their water bottles. "Alright, let's get surfing" I said. "Wait!" someone shouted, "we have to take our shoes off. Surfers don't wear shoes." Right. So we took our shoes off. " Now we're ready to go," I said. "Wait! Our boards are dry again (it was a hot day). We need to wet them down more," another child shouted.

This went on for quite some time, with me trying to get the game going and them continuing to make more preparations. I was getting noticeably impatient, especially as I began to hear arguments starting up in the baseball game on the other side of the playground. "We need to get surfing now," I said with a more firm, teacher voice. Then one of the surfer girls
said, "you need to learn to be patient, Chris."

She was absolutely right. Patience might just be the most important virtue for a teacher of young children to cultivate. I realized that all of the setting up for the surfing game was an important game as well, perhaps more important than the actual surfing. And I suppose if any of the children find themselves really surfing in the future, patience will be very important.

Bay Area Landing: Cheema

Flew right into three friends and
A San Francisco dance party.

Strolled around Jack London Square
Found a statue of the spirit-fire.

Biked up the San Leandro hills
To a friendly horse farm.

Hiked through wildflower chaparral
And wet eucalyptus groves.

Acorn Jewels

Found hundreds of acorn tops from a single tree in downtown Bloomington. The kids colored the insides thoroughly with markers, then filled them with Elmer's school glue and a pinch of glitter. They must be propped up somehow to dry so the glue doesn't spill. We used a base of "floam."

When they dry (takes about 24 hours) the color from the marker magically shines through the hardened glue and they look like jewels. They can be used for treasure hunt games, memory matching games, etc.

Love Affair With Bloomington

A love affair with Bloomington
Still as passionate as ever--

The people, the plants
Wild animals and ants
Nice neighborhood cats
Hidden library bats
Alleys secret and dark
Quiet spots in the park
Bright ideas abound
Simple pleasures are found

Like to kiss the sweet hills
With the hit of your heels
And to seek unique thrills
Riding swift on two wheels
Like to flirt with the dirt
Till your feelings are hurt
More a lifestyle than a town
To be lost and then found

Still as hot and heavy as ever
Love affair with Bloomington.

Stella and the Stone

Stella sent a semiautonomous servitor
With the form of a half frog half weasel
To locate the stone of living death
So that she might make use of it, for
Wouldn't you?
Wouldn't you wish for The Power of powers?
Blindly build a naked tower only to see it
Blasted into sweet wet oblivion?
She survived and thrived on attaining such power.

She demanded the secret knowledge
Commanding her beastly creation in an
Unrecognizable tongue to retrieve it and
Was most displeased when she received a vision
Of a humble tree in a forgotten forest
Surrounded by a humble fungus
More than half of the trunk rotted out
Neither dead nor alive nor neither nor both
But this was the secret, the stone
As shown to her by the frog-weasel.

She found her way to the tree to see
Three tree fairies relaxing on its limbs.
Each one offered to grant her a wish.
She wished first for a fabulous palace
Made of broken mirrors and mouse hair
Then she wished to be Queen of Earth.
Both of these wishes were granted but
Her third wish was not which was to be
Supreme Ruler of All and she was then
Asked to leave by the fairies who were
Annoyed at her arrogance.

My Brain Looked Like This at the Time of Drawing

The Watchtower

The Jehovah's Witness man in the tan suit with thin moustache showed up at my door again. He seems to come about once a month these days. He no longer has the young boy with him, whom he calls "Mr. Jackson," which is good because that always made the exchanges slightly uncomfortable, as the boy would remain silent during my conversations with the old man.

My windows and front door were open to let the warm air of early March in, as an eccentric incense burned in the kitchen and Peruvian mountain music played on the stereo. I heard him calling over the music in his gruff voice "hello!?!" I did not want to deal with him so I hid in the shower for a few minutes. He did not leave so I decided to show myself and at least take his magazines (which I often cut up for collages and other more sinister purposes) and bid him good day.

His literature and his rap mostly dealt with what God's Kingdom would be like -- see picture above -- and he assured me said kingdom was coming quite soon. I remain perplexed as to why pictures of God's Kingdom always feature children riding on elephants and women carrying baskets of bountiful produce amongst flowing fountains. The magazine reports that the kingdom will be "firmly established" by the ruling megalomaniac male deity and "it will never be overthrown."

I told him that God's Kingdom sounded pretty lame and male dominated to me. I then told him that I could show him the Goddess Kingdom (Queendom?) which is already here, if he would but follow me a few miles outside of town, deep into the secret wild spaces within the forest. He laughed nervously and handed me another pamphlet, this one titled "How to Protect Your Children From the Occult."

Busted

Governor Daniels going to cut down
Mighty trees of the backcountry
Our forests of Monroe county
Has he ever even hiked them?
Taken the time to look at what lives?
To listen to their message?

We read recently that he was
Busted for possession of Cannabis
Hashish and LSD while living
In the dorms of Princeton, 1970
So surely he must be aware
Of the wild, unspeakable worlds
That thrive beyond normal perception
He must have a memory, at least
An inkling of what it felt like
To be sensitive and open enough
To receive Nature's endless gifts.