Nulla Dies Sine Linea

So Carla is pissing me off.

I've been thinking, with taking the summer off, I need to start writing again. More on that thought process in a minute. Just when I'm gathering my fortitude to begin again, Carla starts blogging again and gets on her high language arts teacher horse and spouts off about the discipline of writing everyday. Here's some of her garbage:

Lower your standards until you can write.
Don’t correct error.
Writing is a visual art.
"Fail. Fail again. Fail better." Samuel Beckett
Finish. Submit. Many have talent. Some begin; few finish.

You can read all her garbage here on Carla's Blog.

Here I am writing again.

I always have many grandiose ideas heading into summer. Not many materialize. It's all good. I have come to the place that whenever I have time away from work, my goal is to relish that time if for no other reason than it's not work.

Let me explain. No, it's too much, let me sum up. (Obscure movie line for $200, Alex) I do love teaching. I especially love teaching art. I consider all my fellow teachers to be another family. And, God help me, I even like those little bastards I teach. I don't love them. But I like them. Imagine, if you will, every person you had to deal with, all day every day, was someone who was trying to lie, manipulate, groom, steal, put one over on you and, in general, do you dirty in some way. Imagine the exhaustion of having your guard up every single minute of every day. This is what's exhausting about my job. Teaching is a piece of cake. I can do that blindfolded with one hand behind my back. The spiritual space (if you'll allow me to wax philosophical for a moment)that these kids live in is dark and full of pain. And they'll take any opportunity to offload it on anyone within reach.

I need a rest from that.

I need to breathe non-recirculated air.

I need to feel the sun on my face.

I need to clean my house.

This brings us back around to writing. When I think about my time off, my focus has shifted from grandiose plans to daily aspirations of balance and enjoyment. My days are fulfilling when I look to balance all activities. No matter how much I like watching X-Files re-runs or working in the garden, I usually regret doing either of them ALL day. If I allow a little time for different things, the day just seems more full and happy.

Good Lord, that sounds SO bourgeois!

Oh well, you'll get over it.

Writing is one of these activities that balances my time. I've fallen off the writing wagon. The reasons are various and don't really matter much.

It's summer now and I'll write about the sun on the pines and the sweet lilacs blooming along the driveway and the hummingbirds and all other things that don't want to lie to me.