Ephemeral Art

When I was in college, one of the required courses was a four-part humanities series. For three semesters we studied pretty much all of recorded history with a focus on the arts, while the fourth provided a more hands-on experience as we each designed and created our own art projects and present them before the class.

During the fourth semester, I was first introduced to the concept of ephemeral art. If you're unfamiliar with the term, it basically means art that is designed to be temporary. It covers a broad range of types, everything from ice carving to face painting to sand castles to fire sculptures that burn up as they are displayed.

I was reminded of my general amazement with the genre this morning when I found Rosi drawing in the condensation on the back window.

Being the amazing educational facilitator I (occasionally) am, I immediately turned her play into an art lesson. As part of our study, we looked at collections of ephemeral art online. Some of my favorites were by Richard Shilling and Andy Goldsworthy, who do something called "land art" or working outdoors with primarily natural materials which then may erode or decay naturally. Be sure to check out the links; both of these guys do some really incredible stuff!

Photo by Mike and Kirsty Grundy [CC-BY-SA-2.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Genius

I got this quote in my e-mail the other day. I really like it.

Everyone is a genius. But if you judge a fish on its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.

attributed to Albert Einstein

Ironically, there are a few fish living in Africa and Southeast Asia that do, in fact, climb trees. Still, I bet they're better at swimming.

Ten Hundred Million Years

Rosi has a typically childish notion of time. That is to say, she really has no concept of how long an hour, a day, or a year is. When something hasn't happened soon enough to please her (generally the instant she suggests it), she'll complain that it's been hours or days or even "ten hundred million years" since she first asked and she can't possibly wait any longer.

After she made such a comment the other day in the car, I explained to Adam my theory as to why time moves so much faster for Rosi than for the rest of us: in her universe, everything revolves around her. Since she's so much smaller than the sun, it all goes by that much quicker.

Meanwhile, it's been positively forever since my last post. We've been doing our best to keep ourselves occupied here, so let me give you a bulleted list of what we're up to these days.

• I've been spending a lot of time cooking, thinking about cooking, reading about cooking, writing about cooking (I have 60+ recipes posted over at Low-Carb Real Food), and trying to take half-decent pictures of my food. And when I'm done with all that, I spend a few minutes eating and then the kitchen has to be cleaned up all over again. Cooking three meals a day at home makes for a lot of dishes!
• Ever since I made the doll for my contest winner a couple of years ago, I've been wanting to make another and work out my own pattern. I even went so far as to buy yarn for the project a few months back. Then I got caught up doing other things, and I've only gotten back to it the last week or so. As best I can figure, I'm about halfway done. I've also run out of stuffing, so I need to make a run to the store before I can finish any further. Originally, this doll was meant to be for Rosi, but she'd been begging for another doll who would close its eyes when lying down. We found one for 25¢ at a garage sale over the summer and it's been well loved by both the kids. Since Rosi has a new-to-her doll, I decided that once I finish this one, it will be for Ian. I'm shooting to make it a birthday gift, which means I have about 2½ months to complete the doll and make it some clothes.
• I've been homeschooling Rosi to a greater or lesser degree for about two years now. We've tried a few different educational philosophies, but the one we keep returning to is unschooling, or interest-led learning. I really felt like I was trying too hard last year, pushing her when she didn't need any pushing. This year, I decided we really needed some support and community in the homeschooling arena. A couple of weeks ago, we joined a local homeschool group. we've gotten together with them for a couple of activities already and it's been a lot of fun. I'm really excited about what's coming up in the next several months. Rosi is too. It's been difficult for her to maintain friendships when she doesn't see kids at school everyday. A few of our neighbors have kids, but most of them are younger. The one friend her own age that she'd made in our building moved out several months ago. We also haven't had a regular church we've been attending, so that hasn't been a viable avenue for ongoing friendships either.
• And speaking of churches, we actually visited one this morning that we'd all like to go to again. The people were welcoming, the message was solid and timely, the music was good, and I was really happy with the way they handled communion. I've been less than impressed with the way children are so often overlooked when it comes to communion. I understand that families and denominations have differing beliefs about who can take communion. But, in practice, I am very uncomfortable with the way my kids have been treated when we've visited some churches and have brought them up for communion. It is very rare to find a communion "policy" noted in the bulletin or announced during the service. At the church we worshiped in this week, however, the pastor invited the congregation to participate and noted that each family should determine whether their children should receive the bread and wine. One of the things I loved most about our church in Illinois was the recognition that we all don't agree on a lot of theological points--and that's okay. The Church is big enough for people to hold different ideas about baptism or communion or speaking in tongues. Those issues are not actually central to the Gospel and they shouldn't be treated as if they were. I'm excited to find someplace that makes a point of that right in the service.
• Ian is having his own version of interest-led learning. You might call it "toilet unschooling." For the past month or so, he's been pretty frequently asking to use the toilet. He's also gotten really remarkable in the way he can undress himself and take a diaper off, even when he's snapped into a bodysuit. So, I've mostly given up on trying to keep him dressed. I insist that he wear a diaper when we're out or while he's sleeping, but most of the time he spends the majority of his day running around the house without any clothes on. He uses the toilet more than not, and for those times when he doesn't quite make it, I keep a spray bottle of cleaner and a roll of paper towels handy. As an added bonus, I figure he's probably saved us about $15 in diapers so far.

Well, that's not everything we've been up to, but that's probably enough for one post. I will try to start updating with a little more frequency again. Maybe I can manage to post more like once a week rather than once a month. For now, I'm going to go catch up on some sleep!

Fun with Science

Rosi and I completed the most funnest* science experiment since the one I did in high school biology that involved spitting into test tubes (I think it had something to do with pH testing, but I don't recall exactly).

We made Blue Goo. Seriously, this stuff is better than play dough. You can't sculpt anything out of it, but that's okay. It's fun just watching it melt and drip and change between liquid and solid form.

Do you want to get all gooey about science, too? It's easy, just mix one part cornstarch with 3 parts water. You can add a couple of drops of food coloring if you want. Mush it all together with your hands and let the fun begin.

Have older kids that are just too cool for goo? They can still play. My teenage niece turned me on to this one: Cornstarch Monsters. Add a stereo speaker to the mix and you can make the cornstarch colloid dance.

*Yes, I know it's ungrammatical. What's your point?

The Rosi Show

My daughter thinks she's on her own television reality show most of the time. I'll find her all alone in a room explaining to her imaginary audience how to dance, the sound of the letters "sh" or some other random educational tidbit.

Sometimes, she even has her facts straight.

This morning, I overheard her segments on crying:

Crying means sad. And sad means crying.

And the purpose of blinking:

When you close your eyes and open them that's called blinking. You do that to keep your eyes clean and watered.

Because It's All Ancient History When You're Five

We were driving past a construction site near our house where they're building a pharmacy. I noticed a new sign announcing that the store would be open in a few months and pointed it out to the rest of the family. Rosi asked what it meant.

"It means they'll be done building soon and the Lewis will open up," I told her. "That's what the pharmacy is called."

"State Farm?"

"No," I laughed. "Pharmacy. It's where you go to buy medicine if you're sick."

"Or other stuff," Adam added.

"It's like Walgreens," I tried to relate it to something she knew.

"Except this one is called Lewis," Adam told her. "Like Lewis and Clark."

Rosi considered for a moment, then she asked, "Don't you mean Noah's Ark?"

A Swing and a Miss

While on our way to pick Adam up from work this evening, Rosi pointed to a red sign on the corner and asked what it said. Given that there were only 4 letters, I asked her to sound it out.

Rosi: Sss-Teh-Ohh-Peh ... Ope! It says, "Ope"!

Amy: Let's try again. What's the third letter?

Rosi: O

Amy: And what sound does O make?

Rosi: Oh.

Amy: What other sound does O make?

Rosi: Umm ...

Amy: What words do you know that start with O?

Rosi: Octopus!

Amy: And what sound does O make in "Octopus"?

Rosi: Oh.

Amy: No. It's not "OAK-to-pus" is it?

Rosi: (giggles) Ah.

Amy: That's right. O-ah-octopus. Now can you try it again? S-T-O-P.

Rosi: Sss-Teh-Ohh-Peh.

Amy: What sound does the O make?

Rosi: Oh, I forgot. Sss-Teh-Ahh-Peh. (thinks for a moment) It says, "Exit"!

Happy Birthday!

Sound the trumpets: Today is my third blogging anniversary. It's also the last day to enter my secret giveaway, and given the response so far, you still have an excellent chance of winning.

Meanwhile, it's Friday, which means Adam has gone back to work for the week and we need to get back to homeschooling. I've been somewhat lax in that area since my in-laws were here, so I'm feeling itchy to get back into our routine.

I was realizing, just before the hiatus, that my "lesson plans" were getting a bit too elaborate for preschool. I'm now trying to limit our focus to one concept throughout the week in each subject. I'm also trying to get a little more unschoolish about the whole thing and let Rosi lead herself in the direction of which subjects to study. I've been doing that somewhat, like for science we've been learning about animals she likes, but I've been much more strict in the way I've been trying to help her learn reading and math concepts. Unfortunately, in my stricture, we seem to have lost some of the game-playing aspects of learning--you know, what makes it fun in the first place.

Feeling Out of Touch With the Next Generation

Rosi and I were spending some of our school time practicing letters and their corresponding sounds at Starfall. One of the example words for Q is "question" and the image is of a girl standing at a crossroads surrounded by question marks.

I pointed out the punctuation and asked Rosi if she knew what it meant.

"Uh-huh," she answered, distractedly, still focused on the exercise. "It means 'help.'"

Maybe she's been spending a little too much time on the computer lately.

School

Ever since she went to VBS a few weeks ago, my daughter has been begging to go to school. I'd already been planning to start a low-key unschooling preschool program with her in the fall, but her incessant, "Can we please, PLEASE have school today?" pushed the start up about a month.

Since we're starting earlier than I was planning, I haven't really done all the research I was hoping to do. I don't know all the buzzwords and I can't spout off the benefits of various educational philosophies. On the one hand, I think that's okay. I am a well-educated person who really enjoys learning new things. My daughter picks things up very quickly and gets a kick out of having "school" in her bedroom. Besides that ... she's only 4. If I were planning to send her to public school, she wouldn't be starting kindergarten for another full year anyway.

The anxious mother in me, though, doesn't quite agree. If I haven't fully researched all my educational methods, she tells me, I have no business trying to teach anything. What will I do, she wonders, when I get into bad habits this year because I haven't fully committed myself to one philosophy?

For my own piece of mind, I've decided to write down what we do every day that might be considered school stuff. I figure this way I can at least see what we've covered and what areas maybe need some more work.

Today's list says:

• language arts
  
  • practiced capital letter formation by tracing A-Z and writing a shopping list
  • practiced lowercase letter formation by tracing a-z
  • read aloud Amelia Bedelia by Peggy Parish and Fritz Siebel
• religion
  
  • read aloud James 1:19-25 (paraphrase)
  • discussed what it means to listen first before talking
• physical education
  
  • visited the park and played on the slide, swings, and climbing equipment
  • reviewed basic ballet positions and practiced foot and arm placement
• science
  
  • discussed body parts of a spider
  • labeled picture with appropriate parts
• art
  
  • colored picture of a spider
  • identified shapes and traced around them

I'm trying to save all the things she makes (completed worksheets, art projects, etc.) to round out my records. I figure that's enough for my first week. Maybe next week I can actually plan a lesson or two in advance. Or maybe not.

Phones and Graphs and Other Linguistic Miscellany

While I was on blogging hiatus, I missed National Grammar Day. I'm aghast. However could I let this happen? I must post about grammar today to make up for it.

Two of my favoritest* things in the construction of languages are homophones and homographs. In case you don't remember your elementary grammar, homophones are words that are spelled differently but pronounced in the same way, while homographs are words that are spelled identically but pronounced differently. "Here" and "hear" are homophones. "Bass" (the fish) and "bass" (the instrument) are homographs.

I had a friend in college who was an ESL teacher. Actually, through the years, I've had several friends who taught ESL, but this one teacher was telling me how difficult it was for her to clarify some things about English to her students. She told me they'd spent one entire class session in a spontaneous discussion of animals and phrases which use animal terms. Consider trying to explain the differences, for example, among the idioms "bullheaded," "bully," "hung like a bull," "bullish," "a load of bull," and "like a bull in a china shop"? That discussion alone could cover a whole period!

While we're at it, if you're into grammar, let me recommend the book Eats, Shoots & Leaves by Lynne Truss. I got the book from my father who'd been given multiple copies by various colleagues. Clearly, being a grammar snob runs in the family.

Happy Belated National Grammar Day, everyone!

*Yes, I know "favoritest" is a grammatically impossible term. I'm going for irony here, folks. Bare with me (hee hee hee).

Random Thoughts on College Education

I was about to get sucked into a totally off-topic discussion on one of the childbirth sites I visit, when I realized my thoughts would be much more appropriately shared here on my blog. The gist of the thread was: Why wouldn't you pay for your kids' education, if you could afford to?

When I first applied to colleges, I was living in Westchester County, New York. I don't know where it ranks now, but at the time, it had the second highest cost of living in the country, right after Orange County, California. Because government assistance and need-based loans were figured at the national level, rather than calculated by region, my father's income fell well above the cut off. Keep in mind, at the time, he worked for a local Christian not-for-profit organization--not the sort of place known for paying unusually high salaries.

However, even if he'd been a wealthy man, my father has told me he would not have paid for my college education. He felt it was important that I see the value of my schooling--and figured I would truly know its value if I was the one coughing up the funds every semester.

Now, I do have to add that it was understood I'd have a portion of my bill paid by academic scholarships. And, while they certainly did help, I still went into debt to pay for college. I attended a state school with in-state residency, so my costs were kept to a minimum, but I finished school with about $15,000 I needed to pay back.

I didn't find it an unreasonable burden to carry. I did have to seek out financial aid, as well as work part-time (10-15 hours per week) my entire college career. That seemed like a decent exchange to me. I did know exactly how much my education was costing me because I saw the bills coming in and wrote the checks going out.

What I also noticed was a large percentage of my friends who partied and blew off their class work didn't have to pay anything towards tuition or room and board. I felt that paying my own way made me a more serious student. I was much less likely to waste my time when it was costing me so much!

Would I do the same for my kids? I don't know. I definitely believe that students should contribute to some of their educational costs. But what if my kid wants to go to a private liberal arts school that costs $30,000 a year? Should she have to raise all that money herself?

Now that I'm married to a man who went to a private college on his own dime (or at least, his own signature on the student loan forms), I know what it's like to be in my 30's and tens of thousands of dollars in debt. For the cost of Adam's monthly loan payment, we could be driving a pretty nice new car.

So, is it worth all that? I'm not entirely sure. For now, at least, we don't have a college fund set up. What money would we be using to put into it? Maybe we should start the test-taking strategies early and make sure our daughter does really well on her PSAT. National Merit Scholarship, here we come!

Eh, maybe it can wait until she turns three.