On, In, and Around Mondays: Eternity in My Back Yard

They have been sledding, and I with them. But now I am sitting on the porch, watching. I don't know what I love better. The way they laugh, or the hot pink gloves, or them throwing snow balls at the house.

My Eldest makes an art of it. "This is clouds," she says. "Mountains. A rainbow. Rain!"

Splat, splat, splat, the snow balls pile up on stucco, stay. She sees shapes. I see a girl beautiful, beautiful.




Now she picks up an icicle from the ground. I am sure she might throw it too, delight in the splintering. Instead she tiptoes to a barren Rose of Sharon, stands looking, starts touching branches to test their curves.




Gently, she places the icicle on a tenuous cradle. It stays. She walks away.

I sit and sip, watch the icicle, think of artist Andy Goldsworthy. My Eldest has pored over his books, seen him play with nature in just this way—unconcerned with how the sun or the water or the wind might reclaim his art.

Ephemeral beauty, somehow speaking of eternity. Like her, like you, like me.




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On, In and Around Mondays (which partly means you can post any day and still add a link) is an invitation to write from where you are. Tell us what is on, in, around (over, under, near, by...) you. Feel free to write any which way... compose a tight poem or just ramble for a few paragraphs. But we should feel a sense of place. Would you like to try? Write something 'in place' and add your link below.

If you could kindly link back here when you post, it will create a central meeting place. :)

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This post is also shared with Laura Boggess, for...

Conversations in Art

This morning, I taught art. To children. It went something like this...

I sit on the floor. Kids around me, pressing in. I ask, what is art? The answers begin where I expect... pictures, sculptures, drawings. Is that it, I ask. My own kids have seen the books which are still hidden in my bag— Goldsworthy, who planted seedlings in stone (the namesake of this blog) at the Jewish Museum in New York City. So my Littlest says art can be things you find. Sticks, leaves, molded, used.

Art is beauty, says another child. It's pretty, someone adds. No, says another, not always. Sometimes art is sad. Or scary! You can get stuck in art in your dreams. Art makes you feel things, says a boy who thinks he is bad at art. Yes, I say, it does.

What can you use to make art, I ask. Paints, pastels, they say. How about water, I ask. Can you use water? One boy says, water color! And ice sculpture, adds another boy triumphantly. Yes, I say. Snow men. Yes, I say again. Waterfalls. Hmmm... that's God's art, I say. Let me show you a man who uses water to create art, I say, as I pull out the books on Goldsworthy.

Oh! Look! That's... How?! Look! They all talk at once, relating to this art that uses things any child can find. Reeds, rushes, thorns, icicles, dirt, stones, sticks. The boy who thinks he is bad at art says, I can build things that other people can't when I'm outside. A smile spreads slowly across his face. His eyes are intense in this moment. Yes, I say, you can.

Then we begin. And every child finds he is an artist.


Photo by L.L. Barkat: Michaela's "Dandelion Seeds in Silver Bowl."

MORE ART:

Additional pieces are at Green Inventions Central.

STONE CROSSINGS:

This week's book club discussion at Ted's place Christmas Coal: shame

GREAT ART QUOTES:

Scroll to the bottom of Sam's Breathtaking Poem for some great art quotes.