What is time?

I am participating in the
Tuesday Slice of Life with Two Writing Teachers.
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day.

A big thank you to Two Writing Teachers for providing this unique opportunity

for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

I wrote a lot, this past summer. I wrote in my journal every day. I played around with some 'fiction' writing, for the first time in ages. I reflected on several key memories from earlier in my life and wrote about these. I participated in the weekly SOL challenges as much as possible. I tooled around with a second blog. Anyhow, point being - summer was a delight for my writing.

And then the school year began.

I have not felt as if I had time to sit and write in the morning since this school year began. Every school day is filled to the brim with school things, and no personal writing. Instead, I fill my weekends with 'catch up writing,' binge writing - the writer's version of the weekend athlete. 

Then I went on that silent retreat (10 days ago). The first Monday after the retreat, still under its spell, I lingered in bed for a moment, after the alarm went off. I let my thoughts flow. Then, I got up and made a cup of tea. Without any forethought, I opened my journal and began writing up a few of those flowing thoughts. I wrote for about 20 minutes.

I realized I could hear crickets cheering me on, yes yes yes yes yes yes...affirming the day ahead, affirming my writing. It was still and quiet in my home.

It turned out, I still had ample time to get out the door.

How did this morning move slower than normal?

Then, I thought - wait a minute, maybe I have time every single day?

I think part of my writing problem during this school year was simply posturing: I set myself up to believe the limitation, to think "I do not have time." In the transition from summer to school, my early morning alarm needed to be about work - to get going, with precision and readiness. I loved the leisure of summer and I saw the alarm as the death knoll on that easy routine. I thought - summer's over, and so is my leisure writing.

Also, I am trying to get out of the house fifteen minutes earlier than I did last year. So, to take a bit of time to write in the morning - well, that just seemed an extravagance I could not afford!

But then I did. Yes, I did. It worked just fine. And I have been writing every morning since!

What is time?

Tuesday SOL: What if we paint at the easel?

I am participating in the
Tuesday Slice of Life.
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day.

A big thank you to Two Writing Teachers for providing this unique opportunity

for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

Our painting easel is an oasis of quiet, focused creativity. There's only room for two children here, one on each side, and the painting is unhurried and free. The first day that the easels were opened this school year, I gave children "timed appointments" for painting, rushing them through, so that everyone in the classroom might get a turn during our centers time. Now, settled into our seventh week of school, the easel is organically paced...sometimes empty, sometimes full, often one artist lingering on their masterpiece. Teachers can guide from the side, helping children to label the page with their name, converse about the work, move the artwork to the drying line, or provide refills on paint. Let's look at some of the children's work...

Yellow, red, blue

Blue, red, yellow

          

Children are curious about the colors in the paint containers. We have begun the year with the three primary colors of yellow, red, and blue. As our school year continues, children will help me pick the colors for the easel, allowing for a more diverse palette. As the children learned in our guided discovery, our easels are set up with one brush for each color and children are encouraged to work with the same brush for the same color (in hopes of leaving a good solid color for the next painter). I love how frequently I find children's work that simply shouts "colors of the day." These two were painted many days apart, by two different artists. The paintings seem to ask, "What do we have today?" as the artists investigate what colors are available, developing one color at a time. 

More paper needed!

But, of course, separate, distinct colors are not the only way to paint. The very first week we painted, one introspective child discovered the thrill of covering every inch of the paper with paint. The preschooler worked quite a long time at this, mixing, swirling, stretching the paint. What was the original goal? To escape the tumult of the classroom and find a quiet spot to work alone? To discover what happens if you mix two colors? Was it simply to use up all the paint in the containers? Or maybe to create a puzzle for the teachers by covering one's name entirely? This early investigation has led to much imitation - daily, someone paints every bit of their paper at the easel. It is as if the preschoolers have an insatiable thirst for painting, it is never enough. Alas, the three colors are no longer distinct...however, the art is magical!

The surprise of working together

This next picture is one I call "The surprise of working together" - here, one child was drawing with pastels and wandered away from the easel. Pretty soon thereafter, another preschooler came over and began painting on the same paper. In these early days, children are developing their agency - just beginning to realize how to ask a teacher for a new piece of paper, how to move one child's artwork off the easel, how to ask a friend if they can work with them on art. I loved the combined effort! However, both children seemed surprised at the idea that their art was shared. As the year continues, children will begin to purposefully create art together, but this magical piece was happenstance.

The art of avoidance

This beautiful artwork celebrating the color red was created during our classroom clean up. Yes, this clever preschooler slipped to the easel corner of the classroom while our clean up song played and classmates were busy tidying up the room. The preschooler successfully evaded teachers' eyes, as we focused on putting away blocks, dolls, and other toys. I call it "The Art of Avoidance" and it makes me smile - it does show good focus and persistence.

Saying goodbye to Dad 

I happened upon this masterpiece early one morning, as children were just arriving for school. It had clear lines and a distinct silhouette - not at all typical for my preschoolers. I asked the artist, "What are you painting?" and he answered emphatically "An elephant!" Well, yes, it was! I hurried over to my Teaching Resident and whispered, "Did you see the painting at the easel?," realizing we were working with a budding Picasso...and she said, "Oh yes! His father painted the contour of an elephant for him when he dropped him off." I had a good laugh! A fabulous artwork of family love and connection.

Preschoolers love to paint! Each day, our art corner is simply bursting with their creativity and imagination.