Valentine’s Day is Coming: Some Thoughts About Love

I have been married since 1966. My husband and I met in a college art class taught by a painter who is now internationally famous, Vija Celmins. She would never admit that she taught at our school–Cal State Los Angeles. It wasn’t even a university, then, and it had a great reputation for producing capable elementary school teachers.

Most internationally famous artists don’t put such a place on their resumes, but my husband and I are very grateful for all that she taught us, and for the assignment that brought us together. You see, I didn’t have a car at the time. I rode the bus to school. I should say I rode four buses to school. I had to transfer a lot and walk quite a bit. My husband had a red ‘58 classic Corvette. Celmins, as we affectionately called her, said we had to visit some art galleries and review them. My husband asked me to come with him one Saturday; the rest is history.

A friend and I were talking about marriage the other day at lunch. We decided that many people have the wrong idea about it. Many believe that if they do not get along with their partner perfectly every minute of every day, or if they are not mush-pot lovey dovey after a few years that it means they are with the wrong person. Those people are wrong.

The most important factor in any marriage is not appearance, intelligence, achievement, material goods, or even passion. All of those things change. The most important thing is friendship. It is priceless to be able to take a drive with someone who likes to take walks in the same places you do and to eat in the same funny little cafes. It’s comforting to share a familiar repertoir of simple meals that have associations back to early days of student poverty. It’s fun to look at pictures together and remember the time the half-blind terrier scurried all the way down to the bottom of the sleeping bag on a cold winter night in the desert. It’s wonderful to share newly published books, pictures, or articles with someone who appreciates how many long days and nights went into their creation, and how many years of frustration and disappointment preceded the opportunity to sell them. It’s best, in the middle of a tense night, to roll over, lie close, and feel all worries fall away.

So thanks, Vija Celmins, and my dear Alden for the best friendship in the world.

New Books: Daily Editing

Last week I received a heavy box from Carson-Dellosa. I ripped it open, revealing samples of my latest series, Daily Editing. 

The books are beautiful! It is always exciting to see words that came together on my computer screen assembled into an attractive and useful product.

Such a series is a collaborative effort, and it is a thrill to be a part of a team of talented people. Lori Jackson gave the books their clean, appealing layout design. Leah-Anne Thompson took the charming cover photo for the second-grade book. The cover photos for the third and fifth grade books are from Jupiter Images, and the photo for the fourth grade volume is from WizData, Inc.

The content of these volumes also reflects the talents of many people. I would love to take credit for the series, but the original idea was developed by the company and offered to me. It took several months to write the four manuscripts. Jennifer Bonnett, a woman of infinite humor, kindness, and patience, guided my efforts. I never interacted with Carrie Fox, who edited the results, but she did a wonderful job.

Each book in the Daily Editing series offers 180 original fiction and nonfiction paragraphs filled with carefully chosen errors. With sections for capitalization, punctuation, grammar and usage, spelling, and complete sentences, books in the series give students a chance to focus on a different targeted skill each day. Many different types of formal and informal writing are represented including letters, journals, emails, and reports. 

I am proud to have had a part in the creation of this resource!

So Much to Do

Yes, I am an old fart. Aren’t you envious? I’m serious.

I finally have the job I have always wanted; I write for a living, and it’s just as wonderful as I dreamed it would be. For years, I taught school. It was not a bad job. It had its satisfactions, but it was not writing. Now, I have a fresh assignment each month or so. I am always learning and developing new skills. 

Best of all

• I set my own hours.
• I wear VERY comfortable clothes.
• I never commute.
• I enjoy almost every beautiful day.
• I am proud of what I do.

I still have problems, albeit very nice ones. My biggest challenge is trying to integrate other talents into my schedule. If you are a professional creative, I am sure you know what I mean. Few of us have isolated interests. Actors also paint. Painters also write poetry. Musicians also build miniatures.

My father was an artist, and I inherited a strong need to express myself visually. If I do not indulge this side of my personality, I find myself combing through racks of colorful clothes in department stores or thrift shops. I’m serious. It’s embarassing. That’s why I draw, paint, and take photographs.

As I told a new acquaintance recently, when I paint, draw, or write poetry, I am drawing the back of my mind. Each composition is an acknowledgement of the completeness of a particular moment.

I was first led to creating art consistently during a spiritual crisis that ended my teaching career in my late thirties. I was starved for silence. Living in a busy metropolis at that time, I searched for literal silence everywhere, but I could not find it. Even mountaintops my husband and I visited on vacation were not silent.

When I started to suspect that the silence I longed for was figurative rather than literal, I tried religions–many religions. That journey was interesting, but did not solve the problem.

I found the solution in art, and, strangely, the world stepped out to meet me. Materials I needed appeared. Dealers appeared. It was weird. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before, and I did not trust it. I did not think I could draw. Actually, I couldn’t, but for the kind of work I was doing, it did not matter. Anyway, I started attending figure drawing groups. Sometimes I drew 20-30 hours a week at various venues. Because I did not have art school training, I drew differently than others. Without trying to, I developed a distinctive personal style. Here’s the thing about a distinctive personal style–some people (mostly dealers) really love it, but other people really don’t, so as an artist, you have to be strong to stay on course. Sometimes, I am, and other times, I am not.

In this blog, I plan to share my continuing quest for integration, which I believe to be the same as beauty–and silence.