Counting Down

My days are numbered. I have so much I still want to do. I guess that’s the way it goes sometimes. I’m taking some deep breaths and figuring out my priorities.

My mock-up copy of Beatrix was a big hold up and in the end I needed some real miracles as well as some extra work and money to get it done. And still, it’s not done well, but at least I can see it, turn the pages, check the spreads and the spelling. It’s fine. It does what ai need it to do.

Today has been a day of choices and work and phone calls and dashed hopes, with a few good things thrown in. A typical day I guess, but not all the way fun. It’s not over. I still need to exercise. (I usually do that in the morning).

How do I rally some good energy? This process has me practicing my regulating skills all the time. Hopefully that’s a good thing. I nearly gave up around 2:00 pm today, but here I still am. Tomorrow I’ll meet with my teacher friends. Tomorrow is another full day.

Teachers with a Super Power

Who was your most influential teacher? Why?

I have two that changed everything for me. Mrs. Bailey, sixth grade and Mr. Harcha, 7,8,and 9.

Mrs Bailey was the first person in my life up to that pointt who saw me as smart. Every year from kindergarten on, they wanted to hold me back. I was a day dreamer. I didn’t memorize anything if I didn’t see a point. I was dyslexic and had the girl version of ADD. All not diagnosed until I was in my 30’s, so I came off as dumb. Mrs. Bailey let me design all of her bulletin boards. She gave me kid friendly classic literature which I devoured. She was loved and adored by everyone and won teacher of the year my year, but I knew she loved ME. My grades shot up. I learned how to memorize and take tests. I even got an award in math. Mrs. Bailey worked a miracle on me, and I will never forget her.

Mr. Harcha saw me as a serious artist. He understood my need to spend extra time on projects, or approach them differently. He gave me opportunities I didn’t even know existed. I painted my first mural in the school halls. It was the biggest and the only single artist designed and executed. He got one of my paintings into a nationwide traveling art show. He taught me all the technical drawing I needed to learn and know in collage. I credit him for my college grades in art because he was so good, I was reviewing more then learning. Without his influence, I would not have known how important art was.

Both these teachers showed me sides of myself I didn’t know. After Mrs. Bailey, my grades were great.. I got A’s. No one expected me to get into the collage I got into. I was the first in my family to even go. My experience with Mr. Harcha gave me the courage to switch my major to art, as impractical as it seemed back then. Art was me.

I credit both these teachers with giving me the idea to follow my inner guidence. I didn’t know much about that when I was young, but every time I did things my way, I knew it was right. They both encouraged me to trust my instinct, to love what I loved. They showed me that I could succeed and that one thing changed everything.

Kind

I didn’t want to notice. I started worrying about other unrelated things so I didn’t have to. Finally days later, I can admit that I was a little afraid.

I haven’t stood in front of a class of school children in years. Over the summers, I would always develop some amount of stage fright, but after a day back, I was fine. Long years have passed, what if everything has changed too much, what if I choke?

That was the thing I wanted to avoid noticing. Fear. Ugh. Who wants to let fear get the best of them? Not me. Here’s how that resolved itself.

I made an art lesson to go with my book. A simple neurograghic inspired butterfly. I got a little excited about it. Then my pages were printed and glued. My book looked like a book. My teacher friends got excited about me coming into their classes. They loved my book. A whole bunch of enthusiastic suggestions rolled in. People to talk to, places to share it, even the idea of bringing some of original painted illustrations for the kids to see.

I became more excited than scared. I did not stop being kind to myself. I allowed my disconnect. I kept inching along even while afraid, distracted, and discouraged. I stayed kind to myself and open to whatever might come next.

It wasn’t easy. I nearly gave in. I thought about giving up. I thought maybe the non printing issues were a sign. Other things were going on. I suppose this is all part of how it goes. I’m glad now that things have shifted.

What is one word that describes you?

I’m going with ‘curious’ because at the root of what drives me, is a constant, impossible-to-ignore ‘curious ness’. I don’t call it curiosity because that sounds limited. I don’t have curiosity about any one thing in particular, it’s never one subject. Everything and anything can get my curiosity going. The other day, for example, someone was asked to paint a floor in a theater. It was a whole discussion that went in many directions. I had to see the floor. Even a locked door didn’t stop me. I found my way back stage. My curiosity in that moment over something that had nothing to do with me was funny. I thought so, but I didnt care.

That’s me. I hear something and I’m all in. CURIOUS to a fault🤷‍♀️

Here’s to a Confident Spring

Who is the most confident person you know?

I can’t pick. I know a lot of confident people. My kids, my friends, my yoga instructors, people I’ve worked with. Teachers etc. Confidence is a quality that I’ve always admired. It’s hard not to be inspired by a person moving confidently through an experience especially when it seems challenging .

One thing that was once pointed out to me, is that everyone has confident moments doing things they are comfortable doing. Confidence is more of a state and less of an overall quality. Some people are not comfortable socially, but are confident artists or writers. Catch them doing one thing and they are confident, catch them at something else, not so much.

Is it possible to practice something until we feel comfortable and confident doing it? I think so. I’ve been fooled in the past by cool confident-seeming people, only to find out they were actually insecure and self conscious. Its possible they were faking it until they could make it. Which I think is a good plan.

It helps me feel hopeful if I spend more energy practicing being the me I like myself being, as opposed to wishing I was more confident at things I’m not so confident at yet. I say ‘yet’ because you never know. I’ve grown comfortable doing all sorts of things I didn’t think I could do.

Confident people, I believe, are well practiced. They also see themselves in a positive light. They understand their value without having to have it reinforced. Depending on how you were raised, some of these may not have been practed in your childhood, which is a bummer, but I have to believe that it’s never too late. I’ve learned how to practice them in my later years. Confidence, luckily, isn’t a all or nothing, you have it or you don’t, sort of a thing. Confidence is a state of mind and action. It can be cultivated. We all have things we do confidently, whether it’s our own dishes or driving a car.

We can all practice calm confidence while practicing new actions too. Our elastic brains actually enjoy doing new things. Happy Spring everyone, it’s a good time of year to cultivate some soon to be confident newness.