I had a really fun weekend, and I just finished up a new assignment for my digital media class, so I thought I’d pop up a note.
We got our program for studio, and we’ll be designing “Agate Strings Workshop.” It’s “a place for the making of violins and fiddles, teaching and learning how to play these instruments, and live performances. A group of violin and fiddle makers have joined with several teachers to build a facility where they can share workspace and have a shared interior and exterior place for live performances. They imagine holding recitals for students here, performing here themselves, and inviting other musicians to join them.” The program came with a pretty inspiring speech about the process of design, and articulating the spirit of the place.
Lots of work on the table, but I’ve also been making plenty of time for play. I’ve got two leagues going, and even though the Sunday level of play is a bit more chaotic, it’s still lots of fun. I went to the class potluck on Friday night, and to our Denial team party on Saturday night, both of which were relaxing and entertaining.
I’ve got to get to class, which is a shame, because I wanted to write a bit more of substance, but I’m going to post a poem that popped into my head yesterday when we got the program.
Daily
These shriveled seeds we plant,
corn kernel, dried bean,
poke into loosened soil,
cover over with measured fingertipsThese T-shirts we fold into
perfect white squaresThese tortillas we slice and fry to crisp strips
This rich egg scrambled in a gray clay bowlThis bed whose covers I straighten
smoothing edges till blue quilt fits brown blanket
and nothing hangs outThis envelope I address
so the name balances like a cloud
in the center of skyThis page I type and retype
This table I dust till the scarred wood shines
This bundle of clothes I wash and hang and wash again
like flags we share, a country so close
no one needs to name itThe days are nouns: touch them
The hands are churches that worship the world-Naomi Shihab Nye