f'awesome TED talk:
**hi brave star! i missed you...and the blogosphere...**
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boy, this blog has been around awhile...
on the wonders of grief
the past comes to visit
Sunday, February 6, 2011
these are a few of my favorite things
i've been reading bianca for years now (since 2005, in fact) and her beauty as well as her eye for it never cease to amaze me. she is, as always, way cooler than me, and therefore has a tumblr that you should REALLY check out. suenos.
mmm. my name is joy. and i fancy myself a baker. so when i want to bake or cook or just luxuriate in something, i often go looking for joy the baker. some of my faves:
vegan pumpkin walnut bread (two loaves ready to go in the fridge RIGHT NOW)
whole wheat choc chip cookies
ginger chocolate chip cookies
and sometimes i go to joy for a good soup:
ginger lentil
kale and sweet potato
deb at smitten kitchen makes my savory life worth living in all sorts of ways.
whenever i'm looking for something soupy, shutterbean makes me smile.
and when i just want inspiration, this joy+ride is a pretty awesome solution.
and then, when i want to dream about that idyllic summer day when i have nothing to do, noone to call and nothing to say except quiet murmurs shared with the friends i care for the most, i let my mind drift to the poet's loft. can't wait.
this is what i do when i can't work an ounce more and i don't give a crap about the superbowl. go figure.
mmm. my name is joy. and i fancy myself a baker. so when i want to bake or cook or just luxuriate in something, i often go looking for joy the baker. some of my faves:
vegan pumpkin walnut bread (two loaves ready to go in the fridge RIGHT NOW)
whole wheat choc chip cookies
ginger chocolate chip cookies
and sometimes i go to joy for a good soup:
ginger lentil
kale and sweet potato
deb at smitten kitchen makes my savory life worth living in all sorts of ways.
whenever i'm looking for something soupy, shutterbean makes me smile.
and when i just want inspiration, this joy+ride is a pretty awesome solution.
and then, when i want to dream about that idyllic summer day when i have nothing to do, noone to call and nothing to say except quiet murmurs shared with the friends i care for the most, i let my mind drift to the poet's loft. can't wait.
this is what i do when i can't work an ounce more and i don't give a crap about the superbowl. go figure.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
things still aren't quite flowing...
so here's an old love poem i ran across in my google docs. the person this is about is long out of my life and my heart, but it's one of the few poems i've written that i can read without wincing (not quite true, but still).
missing
missing you
missing you is like a phantom limb,
the spot in my chest where my love for you resided
aches on rainy days
wakes me up on muggy nights
catches me in the middle of sentences and meetings, unawares.
missing you is like my toothache
it comes and goes
a dull pain i'm not sure how to get rid of
i know it will go away
i know.
i just wish there were a way to replay
the sweet beginnings,
the before instead of the after,
i wish there were a way to dwell in the sweet nights
and the early mornings,
the light instead of the dark.
the future won't return you to me, i know.
so dwelling on the past, which held such promise, will have to be enough.
missing
missing you
missing you is like a phantom limb,
the spot in my chest where my love for you resided
aches on rainy days
wakes me up on muggy nights
catches me in the middle of sentences and meetings, unawares.
missing you is like my toothache
it comes and goes
a dull pain i'm not sure how to get rid of
i know it will go away
i know.
i just wish there were a way to replay
the sweet beginnings,
the before instead of the after,
i wish there were a way to dwell in the sweet nights
and the early mornings,
the light instead of the dark.
the future won't return you to me, i know.
so dwelling on the past, which held such promise, will have to be enough.
all of the lights
kanye and i are having one of our many moments as i write this post. i'm just sayin'.
as i come to the end of the portion of my weekend that belongs to me (sunday belongs to lesson planning and grading and cooking and, hopefully, cleaning), i am sitting in my apartment peering at this screen and wondering if it is finally time to face my fears. there's this essay i've been writing for about 6 months now that continues to torment me because it deals with some of the most vulnerable and truthful things i've ever been able/willing to put down on paper. it's about me and all of the aspects of myself that have made me feel less than. it's the truth.
scary stuff, people. and there's a scary deadline attached- february 18th. in part, my return to this blog was not only for its own sake, but specifically for the sake of this article and the anthology it will (hopefully) eventually belong to- if one exists, maybe the other will too?
so now it's time, with my sierra nevada in my hand, for me to attempt to reconnect to 7-year-old me, and 12-year-old me, and 27-year-old me...and talk about all those things that make me question my intelligence and my sex appeal and my "me"-ness. i'll tell you how it goes.
oh also, i planned this whole food post that exists only on a legal pad in my backpack. i promise to make that happen this week because it has a lot of recipe links that "winter you" wants and needs to make your tummy happy.
as i come to the end of the portion of my weekend that belongs to me (sunday belongs to lesson planning and grading and cooking and, hopefully, cleaning), i am sitting in my apartment peering at this screen and wondering if it is finally time to face my fears. there's this essay i've been writing for about 6 months now that continues to torment me because it deals with some of the most vulnerable and truthful things i've ever been able/willing to put down on paper. it's about me and all of the aspects of myself that have made me feel less than. it's the truth.
scary stuff, people. and there's a scary deadline attached- february 18th. in part, my return to this blog was not only for its own sake, but specifically for the sake of this article and the anthology it will (hopefully) eventually belong to- if one exists, maybe the other will too?
so now it's time, with my sierra nevada in my hand, for me to attempt to reconnect to 7-year-old me, and 12-year-old me, and 27-year-old me...and talk about all those things that make me question my intelligence and my sex appeal and my "me"-ness. i'll tell you how it goes.
oh also, i planned this whole food post that exists only on a legal pad in my backpack. i promise to make that happen this week because it has a lot of recipe links that "winter you" wants and needs to make your tummy happy.
Friday, January 28, 2011
in the thick of things
self-motivation is a much larger part of this adult life than i ever expected. i find, more and more, that the only one in my life who can truly and meaningfully challenge me is me.
at work i feel endlessly bored or bogged down by tasks that feel meaningless and unengaging, and it is only over the last few months that i have taken it upon myself to initiate challenges for myself. it's like HS all over again, choosing the honors track instead of regular not because my parents pushed but because i love that feeling of stretching, of growing, of doing something i've never done before, of meeting a tight deadline or accomplishing an impossible task. sometimes i actually think i can feel myself learning something new or lighting upon a new idea and those are the only parts of my day that excite me, minus my students making some meaningful connection or showing their wonderful personalities or being generally lovely. these are the moments i cling to.
this week a small group of teachers on staff at my school had the opportunity to talk to my charter network's founder about sustainability at the school. i was the only one that cited "space for creativity" as an important part of sustaining a teaching practice for many years. i was the only one that expressed a need to diversify her daily experience. i was the only one, the only one, the only one. maybe i'm a diva.
at work i feel endlessly bored or bogged down by tasks that feel meaningless and unengaging, and it is only over the last few months that i have taken it upon myself to initiate challenges for myself. it's like HS all over again, choosing the honors track instead of regular not because my parents pushed but because i love that feeling of stretching, of growing, of doing something i've never done before, of meeting a tight deadline or accomplishing an impossible task. sometimes i actually think i can feel myself learning something new or lighting upon a new idea and those are the only parts of my day that excite me, minus my students making some meaningful connection or showing their wonderful personalities or being generally lovely. these are the moments i cling to.
this week a small group of teachers on staff at my school had the opportunity to talk to my charter network's founder about sustainability at the school. i was the only one that cited "space for creativity" as an important part of sustaining a teaching practice for many years. i was the only one that expressed a need to diversify her daily experience. i was the only one, the only one, the only one. maybe i'm a diva.
Friday, January 14, 2011
i miss the women in my life
the good ones. the smart ones. the ones that will tell me how fucked up i am. the thoughtful ones. the ones that think faster than me. the ones that will take care of me when i mess up. the ones that know which boy i'm staring at. the ones that know my weaknesses, the ones that hear my muttered comments to myself. the ones i trust. there are so few of them in my daily circle, in my weekly one, nowadays. i feel unanchored and unsure. i miss my friends.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
this is the end of the innocence
i'm entering my 6th year of teaching (as in, it has already begun). i started my first blog during my first year teaching, which started about 6 years ago. my journey with words written into boxes on my computer screen and shared with the world has had its stops and starts, but i would really like to spend time spinning phrases and ideas into lines in this space as much as possible.
growing up has mellowed me out and made me less interested in sharing myself with the anonymous world out there, and my amped up professional life sucks away my time to immerse myself in good words and ideas, leaving me with less than amazing insights into the things going on in the world.
i could easily tell you the latest about yosmary's helpfulness, or how jericho finally turned in his op-ed, or even about the little work flirtation situation happening with the kindergarten teacher from cali, but all that seems unimportant in the face of tornadoes and a black president who is losing traction and a nation that is waiting for superman to land on our doorstep. none of the minutiae of my and my students' lives seems worth the publicity. and yet, it is that minutiae that is beginning to be all that really matters; my microcosm for seeing the rest of this big bad world of ours.
this is where i am. hear me out.
growing up has mellowed me out and made me less interested in sharing myself with the anonymous world out there, and my amped up professional life sucks away my time to immerse myself in good words and ideas, leaving me with less than amazing insights into the things going on in the world.
i could easily tell you the latest about yosmary's helpfulness, or how jericho finally turned in his op-ed, or even about the little work flirtation situation happening with the kindergarten teacher from cali, but all that seems unimportant in the face of tornadoes and a black president who is losing traction and a nation that is waiting for superman to land on our doorstep. none of the minutiae of my and my students' lives seems worth the publicity. and yet, it is that minutiae that is beginning to be all that really matters; my microcosm for seeing the rest of this big bad world of ours.
this is where i am. hear me out.
Friday, March 19, 2010
why did i get married?
both makes me want to avoid marriage...forever...and to be reborn as a non-black person in some country other than the united states. in "song yet sung" james mcbride uses the visions of a "two-headed" slave to represent his feelings on the current state of black life, and it's not a pretty picture. according to liz, mcbride's character, black men are dressed like boys for their whole lives and black people act like children.
sometimes i watch tyler perry and have nightmares of what my grandmother must be thinking. yikes.
sometimes i watch tyler perry and have nightmares of what my grandmother must be thinking. yikes.
Friday, March 12, 2010
random post?
i'm not sure why i'm posting, but i am. i'm just home from fun after work, contemplating saturday school tomorrow, and i'm okay. okay with my boyfriend being far, far away, okay with my at-work crush being all crushed out, okay with the huge stack of papers awaiting me, okay with students who struggle to be all they can be, okay with the frustration of life right now. okay with my 27-ness. okay.
good, though, is not here right now. maybe later. maybe next week, or next month, or next year. maybe.
it feels good to write again...though i seemed so much wittier, and interesting then, and the prospect of having to court readers again just feels oh-so-difficult...
boo.
buenas noches, world.
good, though, is not here right now. maybe later. maybe next week, or next month, or next year. maybe.
it feels good to write again...though i seemed so much wittier, and interesting then, and the prospect of having to court readers again just feels oh-so-difficult...
boo.
buenas noches, world.
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