the return of sand sculpture!

That's right.  You thought the Sand Sculpture Class was dead didn't you?  Well, I did.  Some administrative changes to the way travel-related courses are scheduled made our cool little Sand Sculpture Class unaffordable during summer.  The last one was May 2021 and I guess that was a good one to end on.  But then...

I have been more actively scheduling workshops and artist-in-residence sessions with K-12 schools and my friend Kevin was working with me on ideas to bring me to Summerville to work with his kids.  As we traded emails, out of nowhere he emailed "What if we did sand sculptures?!" and it was the best idea I've heard in months.  The wheels turned, Kevin worked out all the details and a day after graduation I found myself driving towards the coast.

Kevin's literal neighbors just happen to be Monica and Eric of The Chick Inn on Main in Summerville, SC.  Remember when they commissioned me to do a big drawing for them last year?  It's a good story and you need to hear Monica tell it.  So plan your next trip to Summerville and book your stay with The Chick Inn on Main.  You will not regret it!  I'm happy to provide more information on that along with some photos if you're interested.  Monica is a runner and as we planned our visit, we had to get a run in together.  That's Monica and Katherine after our early morning 5K.  What was Katherine doing there?  Good question...

Hannah, pictured here with her new chicken friend, is a veteran of the Sand Sculpture class.  In fact, she was on the last one in 2021 along with Kennedy, Amber, Ashley and several others.  When Hannah heard I was going to do a one-day Sand Sculpture class with high school students, she, Ashley and Katherine quickly planned a girl's trip to coincide with the class.  We were also lucky that my former student Tien's solo exhibit at Public Works Art Center was happening on the night before the class so we all got to go to her reception as well.  Serendipity.  By the way, that's a real chicken.  The Chick Inn on Main has a lot of real chickens and Hannah wanted to hold one.

After our run and after a really good breakfast and chicken photo, we all drove out to Beachwalker Park on Kiawah Island, just south of Charleston.

When the students arrived, I gave an introduction and a few instructions to get started.

It felt so good to be back in the sand.  The shovels and buckets were lonely in my basement.

And these students got to work immediately.

That's Kevin Morrissey holding the jellyfish.  He's an amazing superhero of a teacher and these students probably have no idea how lucky they are to have him.  Kevin and I went to the same college, drive the same car and share the same barber.

Katherine and Ashley working hard on the cat/mermaid sculpture.  Hannah was carrying water.

The students were really doing great.  They were prepared with good ideas and they worked at a reasonable scale for the time we had.  

As usual, I wasn't as prepared with an idea of what I was going to make.  I piled up sand as part of the introduction and opted for a skull to show a few of the different approaches.  After moving a bunch of sand, I decided to carve "Fort Art" and use it as a photo opp for the students.  Fort Art is the art slogan for Fort Dorchester High.

Speaking of moving sand, after a few minutes of working with our shovels, the park guy came out and told us that there was a rule against using metal shovels on the beach.  He was kind enough to go buy us a box of heavy duty plastic shovels.  

After the shovels and packing, it was time to do details.

Kevin brought a lot of students and Stephanie brought a few of her photo students.  The added bonus was that Mini Me got to come along with her students too.  This is Elizabeth Estes, formerly the Queen of Sculpture (long may she reign).  Elizabeth is my fictional long lost daughter and was my sculpture worker for a few years.  It was really cool to see her interacting with her students and being awesome.  

After about 3 hours, students started finishing up.  This was a giant Toothless dragon.

Abigail lives in Summerville and she also came out to join the girl's trip.  The four of them made a great example sculpture.

This one was a turtle.

This was the Mount Rushmore of Marvel.

This was a manta ray strong enough to hold a person on its back.  They all did a really good job.  It was a very successful day.

Everyone was bummed that we had to flatten out the sand before we left, but that faded quickly when they realized they got to destroy the sculptures in fun ways.  Stephanie took most of these photos and this one really captures the joy well.

Kevin and Abigail both suggested the Blackbird Market for a late lunch.  The bus went to get ice cream and we stopped to eat before heading back upstate.  

For me this was, of course, a lot of fun, but it was also a successful experiment.  Now I know that it is possible to do a one-day Sand Sculpture class with high school students when the high school is within an hour of the beach.  I will definitely be adding this to my list of offerings for workshops and classes.  

And don't forget we do beach weddings too!  Hit me up!

 

Alf Ward

When I entered Winthrop University in the fall of 1990, there was a cool British guy in the Chair’s office.  You could hear his smooth accent coming from the office without seeing his face, allowing your imagination to construct what this gentleman must look like.  When he introduced himself, I couldn’t help but think that THIS was the face of that voice.  It was exactly the face that the voice needed.  Immediately I knew this was a classy guy.  Probably sophisticated.  Definitely intelligent.  

Am I right?

This was my first impression of Alf Ward, Professor Emeritus of Winthrop University’s Department of Art and Design.  Professor Ward arrived at Winthrop before me and was a fixture there during both my undergrad and graduate eras.  Through those 6.5 years total, I learned more and more about him and every single detail that came together painted an even more impressive portrait.  I never got the honor of having him as my professor, but I did get to talk with him, work with him, exhibit with him, have students who also had him, and I got to hear him lecture.  I also got to hear him say “shed-jewel” (schedule) many times and I smiled every time.  

Last Saturday, Alf passed away.  There are stories about his genius and kindness that you should hear and I really wish those were my stories to tell.  Though I cannot honor the life of this amazing man in the way he deserves, I can share just a small glimpse of this man I have immense respect for.

Over my years at Winthrop as a student and as an adjunct Lecturer, the stories about Alf swirled in the area between truth and legend.  When I heard about his death, all those stories came back and it was difficult to remember which ones were true and which ones may have been exaggerated over time.  What I know to be true is what I heard from Alf directly and that’s what I’ll focus on here.  What follows now is a summary of bits of information given by Alf during an artist talk at Winthrop in 2009.

When Alf was in school in England he had some very notable classmates.  Among them were Mick Jagger, Keith Richards and Spencer Davis.  Mick Jagger’s dad was Alf’s teacher in Metalsmithing and Physical Training.  Pop artist Sir Peter Blake was Alf’s drawing teacher.  Blake co-designed the album sleeve for the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.  Alf played lead guitar and was in a band with his friend Christine McVie of Fleetwood Mac.

During the bombing of England during WWII, it was common for a young Alf to be dragged out of bed and into the bomb shelter in the middle of the night.  There was an anti-aircraft gun stand next door to his house and he vividly remembered the sound of the air raid siren and guns.  Alf and his friends would trade scrap metal from the downed German fighter planes in their neighborhood.  Alf recalled the night a downed German pilot knocked on their door and came in to have tea while he waited for the police to come and take him away.

Alf spoke of creating art as a “journey into oneself” and he shared a former teacher’s advice telling students to “concentrate on uniqueness”.  He said that if you are always being true to yourself, then you never have to worry about anyone copying you.  He spoke of the connection between what the artist experiences in life and what the artist creates.  He said that all of the artwork he has ever made has dealt with the basic language of being human, relating to how we treat one another and how we deal with things in our lives and in our communities.

Remembering those words now, it occurs to me just how much of an impact this artist talk must have had on me.  So much of what he said relates to my current creative processes.  I mean, not so much the brushes with musical giants, but definitely Alf’s thoughts on making art.  

Alf Ward was a mind-blowingly great metalsmith and artist.  He designed and created works for the Royal Family if that gives you any idea of the quality we’re talking about here.  His paintings were colorful and humorously symbolic.  Alf was the one who introduced me to Punch and Judy and one of the highlights of my highlight reel as an artist is when Alf personally praised me for a sculpture I exhibited in a show with him.  

I am not remotely a metalsmith but when I was commissioned to create the Lander University Ceremonial Mace, I remembered that Alf had created the Ceremonial Mace for Winthrop University among other institutions and I used those works of art as the starting point for my own creation.  I would not want you to compare my mace to his but I distinctly remember feeling pride when I realized I was doing something that Alf had done.  When I think about how much influence Alf had on me, I can’t imagine the amount of influence he has had on those lucky enough to be his students.  

How fortunate I was to have shared space and time with this great man.

attention deficit and hyperactive but no disorder

A short time ago I mentioned on Instagram that I didn’t believe in ADHD.  This, of course, raised the ire of many people and because of the brevity required on that platform, I knew that at some point, it would be best to address my personal beliefs about ADHD in a longer form.  Now that I’m on summer break and am sitting at an actual keyboard, I am willing to do just that.

First of all, of course I believe that there is an actual debilitating disorder called ADHD that causes major social and academic disruptions for humans, because, you know, science.  The American Psychiatric Association agrees with me here and they even know how many humans suffer from this actual disorder.  8.4% of children and 2.5 % of adults according to research cited from 2018.  

And see, THAT’s the part where I have trouble.  I’m cool with the science and data.  What I’m not cool with is the far more than 2.5% of adults who say they have ADHD.  Many of the ones I know even claim to have been officially diagnosed and say they’ve taken medication to control the symptoms.  Of the people I’ve met who claim to have ADHD, my guess is that a lesser percentage of those ever suffered from a disruptive and debilitating version of it.

How could that be?  I mean, some have a prescription from an actual doctor.  Sure, that’s tough to argue with when you’re looking the person in the eye and they’re telling you that the medication helps them to focus.  But I also am privy to some of the ways humans are diagnosed and prescribed medication for ADHD when they are students.  

I went through education courses, teacher certification and student teaching in the public K-12 system in America during the early 1990s.  One day, early in my student teaching, I was standing in the hallway by the art room door with my mentor teacher awaiting the arrival of the next 6th grade class.  I heard a commotion, saw a blur of movement and a 6th grade dude in a full sprint jumped up in the air, landed on his knees about 10 feet from the door and slid down the hall in front of us.  He was screaming the mentor teacher’s name and after he entered the room the teacher looked at me and whispered “ADD”.  (Back then it was commonly just “Attention Deficit Disorder”.  It became more popular to add the “H” later on.) 

Students like this young man were wild and free and seemed to march to the beat of their own drum.  If they were engaged by the assignment, they were focused and adept.  If they were bored, they would disregard the rules and find ways to entertain themselves.  While my mentor teacher was really good at managing this student’s boredom, she also made it clear to me that many teachers and administrators simply want students to quietly follow the rules.  Students who present problems like this little guy, were often sent to the school nurse with the strong suggestion that they be tested for ADD or ADHD.  This urging would pass along to parents who wanted their child to do well and they’d take students to their family physician to get medication prescribed.  

In situations like this, the difference between a normal child having difficulties being still, following instructions, waiting their turn, etc. and a child who needs medication comes down to a judgement call by the physician.  Is this behavior more than “normal”?  Evidence that weighs in to this decision largely comes from the parents and school administrators who present behavior as “evidence”.  It is easy to see how a child who gets under a school administrator’s skin for a while can be diagnosed and prescribed pretty quickly.  

So that’s my experience with how I’ve seen some students earn the label of having ADHD and getting medicine.  Your experience is likely different and that’s OK.  You may have had so much trouble in school that you couldn’t pass classes.  You may be part of the 2.5% as an adult who needs medication in order to function as a helpful citizen.  If so, I believe in you and your disorder.    

What happens is that some of us think differently.  Some of us learn differently.  Some of us engage better with oral instructions or written instructions.  Some of us need to see it acted out as an example.  Others of us may just decide early on that the current structure of public education is outdated and ineffective.  We may see that it doesn’t serve our best interests even before we learn how to effectively vocalize that thought.  The unspoken message we may receive is that learning is supposed to be this particular way with everyone and if that doesn’t work well for you, then you are not normal.  There must be something wrong with you.  

Then you hear that there’s this thing some people have that prevents them from academic excellence.  It’s called ADHD and some of the symptoms sound like a summary of your day.  You can’t focus on uninteresting tasks?  You hyper-focus on all the wrong things?  You have a long list of things you need to do but you find all sorts of unrelated things to focus on until the last minute?  You get distracted easily?  You lose track of time or zone out when you are doing things you love?  And then you’re like, “Dude! That’s me!  I must have that!”.  Many of us then self-diagnose with ADHD.  

I appreciate hyperbole for humor and I practice it often.  I am guilty of saying to friends that I have ADHD in humorous situations.  In the same way, I may tell friends that I have “social anxiety” and they may tell me that they are “depressed”.  This is a thing we do.  It is not necessarily a good thing, especially if it could devalue the meaning of a real, medical diagnosis in a person who truly suffers from a disorder.  Of course, there is a difference between feeling depressed and actually having Depression.  There is a difference between feeling nervous in social situations and having Social Anxiety.  I have never been to a Psychiatrist, heck, I’ll barely go to a Physician, and I’ve never been diagnosed with any of these disorders.  Most of my friends haven’t either.  But we all recognize that we have some mild versions of the symptoms of the actual disorders.  Outside of these friendly discussions, we should not speak so carelessly about mental health.

When careless talk extends beyond close friends having a chat, and bleeds over into social media posts, you get a whole extra percentage of people who claim to have ADHD.  THIS is the ADHD that I don’t believe in.  

I forget things.  Simple things.  Tell me what you want me to order in the drive through line and I’ve forgotten it as soon as it hits my ear drums.  No joke.  I have no idea what you just said.  A simple thing I need to remember to take with me to work tomorrow?  There’s a 100% chance I’ll forget it without a note.  Got some directions for me?  You better write those down or there’s no way it’s ever going to happen.  I also focus on things to a point where every other thing around me is diminished.  I get totally lost in a creative act or activity.  Time doesn’t exist.  Yet, if I’m doing other things, like talking to you, the least little thing may distract me.  If you’re telling me a boring story, it’s certain that I’m having three other conversations in my head while trying to focus on what you are saying.  Ask me to do a meaningless task?  Not gonna happen.  If I have an uninteresting task to do by a deadline, I’ll do just about anything but work on that task until the anxiety related to not doing it is greater than the anxiety related to doing it.  Once that tipping point is reached, you couldn’t budge me from competing the task with a bulldozer.  

If I were in 6th grade and causing a problem for my teachers, any of the above things could get me diagnosed with ADHD and medicated.  I will further argue that if that had happened, I would not be the productive and creative human I am today.

No two people learn and function in daily life the same way.  I do not accept the label “normal” in most things.  Our individual differences are what make us great.  I do not want to live in a world where everyone follows instructions and does what they are told.  I do not want to have college students who followed all the rules in K-12 education.  In fact, I have spent many years teaching college freshmen, sophomores, juniors and even seniors to disregard some of what they were taught in their previous educational institutions.  New ideas, creative ideas, world changing ideas do not come from people who follow rules and adhere to conventional thinking.  This is the point where it would be easy to send you on a Google assignment on the eduational background of Albert Einstein.  As a young student, he had many of the non-normal educational symptoms that are now associated with ADHD.  Was he normal?  Heck no.  And I argue that neither are you.  

Albert Einstein, Doug McAbee and you all have something in common.  We learned strategies to help us adapt to the way we think and process information.  I learned to write lists and notes to remember things.  I am currently surrounded by sticky notes and lists written on the backs of envelopes at my computer desk.  When I had trouble sitting still and listening to a teacher drone on about some nonsense that was not currently engaging to me, I learned to doodle in my notebook margins.  While many see this as evidence of a person not listening, I have developed it as a way of remembering the oral information.  This direct visual association with oral information became a major pathway in the development of my creative practices.  Einstein was also a problem solver and that’s eventually what he developed into a career of asking better questions and proposing better answers.  I’m sure you’ve also developed your own successful strategies and those strategies have led you to be the fully functional human you are.

But what if young Albert had been sent to a physician and prescribed behavior altering drugs?  What if his problem solving skills had been dulled medically?  Would he have ever entered the university?  Would he have ever become a physicist?  And would I have become an artist?  Or a professor?  

There are most certainly people who are unable to function successfully in academics and social systems without the help of proper medication.  I believe that some of those people who were diagnosed as ADHD need the help of medication in order to be productive citizens.  

I do not believe there is evidence to support that every child who has been diagnosed with ADHD actually has a disorder that requires medication in order to function in life.  I believe that the range of what constitutes “normal” in education is a very wide spectrum, rather than a narrow sliver of what our modern educational institutions prefer.  

So there’s that.  I’m happy that you were interested enough to make it this far.  And if you did, you probably have some opinions about this and they’re probably just as valid as my own.  I’d love to hear them if you feel like engaging.  

coffee with an introvert

A million years ago my friend Armir and I went to grab a coffee before class.  I think at this point he was an upper level student and we got along really well.  There’s a whole story about Armir, but this isn’t that story.  That Thursday morning coffee before class just sort of became a weekly thing and Coffee With McAbee was born.  Armir graduated and started working for the school and coffee continued.  We were real ones too.  Our Starbucks friends would give us the giant ceramic mugs and make our coffees pretty.  Don't tell Armir I told you this but we both like the frilly drinks.  

When he moved away, the coffee void was filled by various students and it was just an informal but weekly thing we did if we had time.  We’d gather at Starbucks and have a coffee for a few minutes before class.  Eventually this turned into another type of meeting and Coffee With McAbee took a different turn.

Now, whenever the mood strikes me, I will message someone and invite them to have coffee.  We’ll chat for a while, I’ll judge their coffee beverage choices (and usually extrapolate a whole view of their character based on that judgment) and I’ll take a photo to post on Instagram to make it official.  

During the years that I’ve done this, I’ve heard and overheard some people wondering why I haven’t invited them for coffee.  I’ve also had good friends wonder why I would put myself in the awkward position of being a wannabe podcast host when I so clearly prefer to be alone.  I’d like to use this post to figure that out for myself and to share it with you if you are curious.  

First of all, there are so many people and I’d probably like to have coffee with 99% of them.  Even if I don’t prefer your company, I also know that you are a beautiful human with an interesting story and I enjoy stories.  So if you’ve ever wondered why I haven’t invited you to coffee yet, blame math.  There’s one of me and lots of y’all.  I’m pretty ridiculously busy both during the semester and during breaks.  When I do get a bit of time to dedicate to sitting down to talk with someone, there are a lot more of you than there are of me.  And just because I had coffee with someone else doesn’t mean I like them more than I like you, it just means that the Universe picked them first.  I guess I should explain that, too.

So, here’s how I choose who to have coffee with:  I don’t.  I decided a long time ago that it’s too much pressure.  The last thing I want to do is make someone feel left out or unloved, especially when the whole point of having coffee with someone is to show them love and to make them feel seen.  Choosing is too hard and I’m human.  Knowing that, I decided that I would keep my eye open to opportunity and if things seem to line up for a particular person, I’d pursue that.  If a friend is in town briefly and our schedules line up, that’s the Universe saying “have coffee with them”.  Sometimes people suggest we have coffee.  That’s especially cool when I have been thinking it would be cool to have coffee with that person.  I take that as a sign.  Sometimes I am willing and available but no doors of opportunity seem to be open and I go have coffee alone.  I was actually doing that a while back and one particular person walked by and I thought that I would like to have coffee with them.  A few weeks later, we did and it was perfect.  

Is it a bit of a cop-out to not really have an agenda for who to invite?  Definitely and I’m happy to have it.  Y’all probably don’t know the hell it is for me to invite someone to coffee.  I’m an introvert and I still have every insecurity I had in middle school hiding in the back of my brain.  How silly would it be for me to assume someone wanted to sit and talk to me for an hour?  They’ll probably say no.  They probably think this is a ridiculous bit of nonsense anyway.  Many of the guests are students and you know they’re sick to death of me by now.  Why would they want to spend time with me outside of class?  I mean, they probably hate me, right?  And I’m supposed to just put all those ideas out of my head and send an invitation out of nowhere?  No thanks.  I’ll pass.  I’ll go get a coffee and sit alone and draw in my sketchbook.  

The next circle of hell is what comes after that.  I feel like I’m supposed to talk to people.  I’ve seen the power a conversation can have and how it can positively impact someone.  I’ve developed strong friendships through the years over coffee.  I still remember exact words spoken to me by my professors some 30 years ago.  Connection is so important.  That responsibility is what forces me out of my shell to ask someone to coffee.  

Then, like every good introvert, I don’t want to go.  Is there a good reason to cancel?  I mean, it might rain.  How am I going to keep a conversation going for 30 minutes or longer?  What if it’s just awkward silence?  Maybe they’ll cancel at the last minute.  

And then, also like every good introvert, I’m always so happy that I went.  The conversation was great and I learned so much about the person.  We established a real connection that may benefit that person for years to come.  Or maybe we reconnected after a few years and renewed a good friendship.  Whatever the case, I never regret having coffee with people.  I love y’all. 

Summer break has arrived and with it, my hermit status is back.  I look forward to long studio days here on the plantation without seeing anyone who doesn't live in my house.  When I do venture out, it will likely bring an opportunity for coffee.  

If you’ve been waiting for your invitation, I hope the Universe will bring our schedules together.  And then I’ll be terrified and I’ll hope you’ll cancel and then I’ll be thrilled that you didn’t and that we had an amazing conversation.

 

we freaking saw taylor swift

 

Like many people, I sat in the virtual line on T+++++master's website for several hours to get a chance to buy presale tickets to a Taylor Swift concert.  Like most of those people, I got kicked out when my place in line arrived and did not get tickets.  I was very sad.  I figured I still had a chance, though.  I heard about a lot of people who bought up tickets for shows they may or may not be able to attend.  Some bought tickets for multiple shows and decided later which one they were going to attend.  Like many American things, there was a huge gap between the haves and the have-nots.  

My chance arrived one evening while my son was messaging a friend, one of the "haves".  They had two tickets they didn't need and they offered to sell them to us.  I was asked what I would pay and like a shrewd buyer, I said I'd be happy to pay face value.  Alas, I am a teacher in a poor state and I would not be participating in paying thousands of dollars to go to a concert.  The friend agreed and for a brief few minutes Violet and I celebrated our luck.  We were going to see Taylor Swift!

Until Blue came back down the stairs with an angry look on his face.  He told us the friend changed their mind and would be offering the tickets to the highest bidder online.  As fast as our luck arrived, it slammed the door as it left.  We were not going to see Taylor Swift.  

This was it for me.  I put it out of my mind and figured that eventually I'd see a video of the concert and I'd be ok.  We were bummed, but we would recover.  

A few weeks later, a friend asked to meet.  They handed me a card with a big smile on their face.  When I opened the card, there were two images of Taylor Swift tickets inside.  My heart may have stopped.  This was either a very kind gift or the cruelest joke.  It took a bit of explaining and reassuring me that it was real but within a few minutes the tickets were transferred into my Apple wallet.  It was unreal.  You probably know I'm not a hugger, but when I tell you I hugged this friend, you know it was a real, heartfelt hug.  There was one condition with the gift:  I had to take Violet.  Done and done.  I immediately texted the photo of the tickets to the family chat and Violet went berserk.  What a turn of events.  We were going to see Taylor Swift!

For weeks, Violet planned her outfit.  She researched what people were doing for these concerts and she planned which era she was dressing as.  On one of our recent trips to Charleston, she took me on a search for glitter to wear, but we didn't get any.  I'm no fan of glitter and it didn't seem like a big deal.  

When Violet's outfit was planned and the accessories secured, I was told I needed to get myself together as well.  It was the end of the semester and I really didn't have mental space to plan an outfit so I opted for something along the lines of "Style" and "Cardigan" where a white t-shirt and Levis are mentioned.  I realize this crosses eras and I'm not even sure if that's allowed, but I have no shortage of white t-shirts and Levis so I was all set.

Our tickets were for night 3 in Atlanta.  After the last concert I saw in Atlanta, I decided I was too old to try to drive home after a show so we made reservations at a hotel in the Buckhead area.  We got up on Sunday morning and drove to Atlanta with no traffic.  We arrived at the hotel and it was instantly obvious that this concert situation as affecting everything.  There were other people around the hotel who were clearly Swifties.  Everyone asked us if we were here for the concert.  The nice lady at the desk let us check in early and told us to have fun.  I was already seeing sparkles and glitter and when we saw an Ulta around the block, we stopped in for some glitter for Violet before heading to the Marta.  

I did little research on the Marta.  I've taken the trains in New York and Barcelona and figured out the water taxis in Venice so I figured I'd be ok.  This was actually much easier because everyone was going to the same place and they were all wearing glitter and sparkles.  The train dumped us out near the entrance of the venue and we were there in plenty of time.

That's Violet's Eras outfit.  She looked good, huh?  So yeah, we arrived very early after hearing from people who attended the previous days in Atlanta.  After our whole "missing the entire Weezer performance" incident a while back, we were taking no chances this time.  What's a couple of hours of waiting to get in anyway?  

Violet made us bracelets in the car on the way to Atlanta.  The whole trading friendship bracelets thing is actually a thing and it gave people something to do while sitting or standing in line for two hours.

Neither of us are into small talk or striking up conversations with strangers.  But this crowd somehow felt friendly.  There was a definite positive vibe going around the space outside of the venue.  Violet approached a group to initiate a bracelet trade and I borrowed a Sharpie from a neighbor to add some "13"s to our hands.  We even got into a longer friendly situation with the people behind us in line.  Those poor ladies had to pee but were unwilling to go to a port-o-potty.  It was fun to see if their will could outlast their bladders.  

After two hours in the sun with very pleasant temperatures, the lines moved through the gates.  We scanned our tickets, grabbed our light-up bracelets and started climbing to our seats.

This was the view that greeted us.

There was only one row of seats behind us.  We were just about as far back as you could be and we were absolutely thrilled.  We were either now or would soon be in the same building as Taylor Alison Swift.

But we still had another two hours of waiting.  Y'all probably know how impatient I am, but the time moved pretty quickly.  We had a snack and the people watching was as good as it gets.  

I was prepared for people to be decked out but I was not prepared for the level of decked out I saw.  There was so much glitter.  So many rhinestones.  So many sequins.  It wasn't just overwhelming, it was otherworldly.  I instantly regretted my vanilla choice of clothing.  Ok, regret is a strong word.  We'll say I second guessed it.  Anyway, after two hours Gayle came on as the first opener and I liked their sound.  Muna was the second opener and while it was fun to watch, it wasn't my thing.  All during the openers we could still see the lawn outside and there were still so many glittery people out there and so many empty seats inside.  When Muna left the stage, all that changed.  

We got to see Ms. Swift enter the stage in her little mop cart surrounded by her dancers.  That was cool.  The lights dimmed, the music started and I slowly began to be over-stimulated by the big-ness of it all.  It was theater, it was live music, it was dance and it was also a stunning show of light and video.  Every sound effect, every visual effect was perfectly cued.  It was like watching a very precise machine.  

A song would end, the lights would dim and Taylor would disappear from the center of the stage only to reappear in a different location in a completely different costume a few seconds later.  I still do not understand the speed of the costume changes.  

And oh my goodness the performances were great.  Taylor sounded great.  Just when the show was epically big in sound and visual effects, she would balance it by grabbing an acoustic guitar and singing alone on a stage in front of 60,000 people.  It was really impressive. 

The stage itself was huge and not only that, it was a video screen.  This was perfect for those of us up high in the stadium.  The people on the floor didn't get to see the stage effects, just as we couldn't see what was happening on the traditional stage set.  It was an even trade.  Oh, and those light-up bracelets - those were very cool.  Some smart tech person somewhere knew exactly where each bracelet was and each bracelet became a part of the light show.  Our wrists became rainbows, stars and fireflies at various points in the show.  The patterns on the stage were reflected in the crowds.

We got "I Bet You Think About Me" and "How You Get The Girl" as our surprise songs and they were great.  We also got all the great songs from each album.  It was a wonderful show.  

She gave us three hours of music.  Honestly, it was exhausting.  We sang every word and danced so hard that the building shook under us.  No joke.  Everyone was your friend and there weren't even any of the bad concert people there.  No one spilled beer on us, no one danced on us with body odor and no one was vomiting nearby.  But after the experiences of the whole day and three hours of singing and dancing, this 51 year old and 13 year old were pooped.  

Getting 60,000 people out of a building and onto the nearby sidewalks was a mess.  We expected this and while we were both near our limit for being around people, we had just enough endurance to make it out.  We knew the train station right outside would be packed so we had the good sense to do a bit of walking to a station farther away.  This allowed the crowds on the sidewalks to thin out considerably and we still had some sparkly people to follow as we walked.  The station we walked to was basically empty and the next train was only about 3 minutes away.  When it arrived, though, it looked like a cartoon clown car.  The door opened near us and there was not really room for one person to get on.  But we pushed our way in and we stood just inside the door, all up in other people's space for a few stops.  Soon we were on a much less crowded train back to our hotel.  

(We did have ants mysteriously in our room when we got back and had to change rooms at 1:00 am but that was handled very quickly by the dude at the desk and we turned our light out at 1:30.)

The next day was a school day.  One of us was cutting school that day and the other had MFA critiques in the afternoon.  After a brisk run, we got ready and walked to the Flying Biscuit for breakfast before checking out and driving back home.  Traffic on I-85 was nasty but we left early enough that I could still get a 45 minute nap before I had to leave for school.  The nap wasn't enough and we both went to bed early that night for a more full recovery.  

It would be easy to read this and think it was about seeing Taylor Swift.  Don't get me wrong, she's great and the show was wonderful, but what this was really about was Violet and I having an adventure together.  This is definitely an adventure that we'll both remember for many years and I'm so grateful to have been able to spend this time with Violet.  I know I'm not as cool as her but I'm thankful that she wants to do things with me.  Maybe we'll even be able to talk Blue into going to a concert with us soon.  

I am so grateful to my friend for their act of kindness that made this adventure possible.  

thinking about thanking

The spring semester just ended and the super-fast time of reflection before moving on to summer activities has arrived.  For me that time of reflection is mostly squeezed into longer drives since I don’t really slow down at all.  Ever.

Classes ended but the meetings and responsibilities did not.  Graduation arrived on Wednesday and my Thursday began at 3:40 am when I got up to get ready to drive to a 2-day shift as an Artist in Residence for a middle school in Lexington.  Bouncing around in my mind between podcasts was a list of things I want to do differently in my teaching in the fall and a couple of “thank yous” I received as the semester ended.

Teaching is hard.  There are the occasional “thank yous” from students but I’ve learned that these are not the norm.  Being thoughtful is a lost art and especially for a senior transitioning from college kid to adult in the span of a one hour ceremony, remembering to say thanks is not high on the list of things to do.  There’s also the fact that my style of teaching is mostly a long-game style.  My students are not as likely to appreciate what I’ve done for them this year as they are five years from now.  With few other perks to the job than watching students grow and become great, it’s easy to get down by the end of a semester.

This year I worked very closely with a group of seniors in my area.  These are apparently thoughtful people because of the 4 I spent the most time with this year, 3 of them took the time to say thank you.  (No shade to the 4th, I really like them and we’re cool.)  There were even a couple of other students who also offered their gratitude before leaving campus for the summer and that was really nice.

I’m writing this blog to note my gratitude for their gratitude.  Because, you know, it’s weird to say “thank you” for a “thank you” note.  When my kids were in preschool they were taught to say thank you by Mrs. Harris.  The wise Mrs. Harris told them that they should say thank you anytime someone did something nice for them or said something nice to them.  We would get locked in these eternal dialogs of “Thank you for saying thank you!” and “Thank you for saying thank you for saying thank you!” until I finally just gave up.  So if you said thank you to me these last few weeks in any way, I want you to know that meant something to me.

If you don’t teach, it’s difficult to convey just how hard it can be to be an effective teacher.  If you’re doing it right (and I get to decide what is “right” because this is my blog) you try to be 100% present for your students.  This means that it doesn’t matter what’s going on in your life personally.  When it’s time to teach, boom, you wipe that white board of problems in your brain clean and you instantly become super passionate about helping someone else.  It can mean you read a rejection email on your way to class and when you touch that doorknob, you put it away and smile really big and greet your morning class with a “WOOOOOOOO!”.  That happened this semester.  It can mean you get some really crappy news that proves that your hard work is not appreciated or even noticed and you go to your next class and dig deep to provide the right string of words that helps a student see something in a different way and they immediately have the best idea they’ve ever had.  That happened this semester too.

Doing this same type of putting yourself in a box until the end of class over and over again can get heavier and heavier near the end of the semester.  That student who just never listens to you but demands so.

much.

of.

your.

time.

..may only need one more debate before something clicks in their brain and they make a huge change.  But dang, do you have one more debate in you?  Your tank is empty and you have a line of people asking to be filled. 

Nothing refills like a thank you.  Sometimes it can be a simple “thanks” tagged onto the end of an email.  It works.  Other times it may be a simple gift or token of appreciation.  One student gave me farm eggs and a cut flower.  Instantly lifted me.  Or maybe it’s a handwritten card.  Those work really well.  If you’re like me and you forget every compliment in 10 seconds while remembering every negative word spoken for 100 years, it’s nice to have the card to find again a few months later.  Heck, there was even one kid at the middle school this week who knew me for a total of 53 minutes and when the bell rang, he doubled back and said “thank you” to me before going to his next class.  

So thanks for the thanks little dude.  And thanks to all the grateful people for the powerful words.