read "wild" not "wid" -- corrected now (whew!).
I barely had time to write my blog last night, and
obviously didn't proof it.
I got home from art class at 10:30 p.m., and scurried to get
ready for school. In between commercials on Jon Stewart
I ran (cla, clump, cla clump) (I can't really run yet) up two
flights of stairs to photograph my painting, write the blog,
and publish it.
And today I had the nerve to talk about precision with my
students, while my huge typo sat out in cyberspace.
That's ironic, and funny.
watercolour self-portrait
at nineteen
11" x 14"
I'm showing you a self portrait I did when I was at
art school and 19 years old. I like it because it shows promise,
and also something I see so often in the young people I
teach. I was a very pretty girl then, but didn't know it --
so I painted myself in an eerie, elongated, red eyed, raw way.
When students tell me they're ugly, I tell them that
the tragic part of that assumption is that when they are
(much) older they will start to feel great, and know that
they're good looking, no matter how they look.
Even if the rest of the world doesn't see it, they'll
probably feel just wonderful. And they'll look back
at photos from their college days and wonder what it
was they thought was so terrible back when.
Have a loving-the-kid-in-you day.
