Hot to cold

[Chine collé test with photo litho using all hanji bits and base sheet. I had cut out and glued sooo many little bits of hanji but realized afterwards that I had reversed them all my entire original vision was shot. BEST way to learn never to do that again!] I'm still processing the weekend class, which I see as a big lesson in educational choices (in my head, ticking "not satisfied" box in the non-existent evaluation of an organization that is growing too quickly for its infrastructure). I learned that the more I teach, the more sensitive I am to being taught. I remember when I started to teach violin lessons and then went back to taking lessons briefly with a master teacher. Every hour of those lessons were crammed full of information, though it didn't feel onerous in the moment. But because she was so skilled, those few hours were transformative. Ever since I was 18, I took notes in class and then went home to transcribe them all. I heard about the technique somewhere and liked that 1. the final product was a set of legible notes, 2. I could scrawl away in class as messily as I liked, 3. it helped reinforce what I had just learned, and 4. once computers became ubiquitous, I had a digital record of everything (eventually, I switched to typing out my scrawls). When working with that violin teacher, I came home and wrote and wrote and wrote so much. Those were the days when I could actually retain lots of information in an hour without writing (violin lessons don't afford you note-taking time), and then come home and get it out. Recall is less good now.

[Two more tests, from my first class, complete and utter play. Wholly satisfactory. Colors in the image are hard to read, but the middle sections are a weird green from my last hanji session in Cleveland.] Although I didn't get enough sleep, I was glad to be back in Fumiko's studio for class. She said it was amazing that after such a frustrating weekend intensive, I would then do such intensive printmaking work (I spent at least an hour cutting and trimming and tearing tiny bits of colored hanji for three extensive tests). I could do that because I felt so much calmer and at ease, in good hands. Then, I got to catch up with an old friend over dinner and a movie before walking through rain to visit my sister. Today I finally met Rachel, who was in town with a friend, all orchestrated by Terttu. It was so nice to meet someone I've only known through blogs/email for several years. She was taller than I expected and an excellent hugger. Probably the best I've experienced, ever! Near the end of our meal, a woman at an adjacent table leaned over and mentioned that she was a photographer who was doing a project on artists in their apartments. She had ascertained that we were artists based on our conversation and what sealed the deal was when she saw me pull out a crocheted pink bag full of paper yarn. One of my classmates in printmaking class saw the same bag and said, "You are living my dream!" when I told her that I had made the bag and some of the paper inside of it. I'm happy to live other people's dreams but the goal is to live mine. Getting there, slowly.