Back to it all.
First day of classes = something like this. . .
Woke up at 7:47 for my 8 a.m. // made it there + only 5 mins late // pjs = leggins + velvet shirt worn all day // new classes and faces all around// hugs // promises to see each other in the new semester// classes added//classes dropped//plans// people darting in and out of buildings trying to find classes// goodbyes//new connections made . . .
I had been continuing to do the same thing
while expecting different results.
On most days the children learned how
to do something. Time passed around us
as something approaching a figure eight
might move in order to let all else move
or be moved by our large numbers of feelings
exponentially on high alert once we let them register.
It passed us around. It passed around us like a river
around a boulder.
Music consisted of light & light came on time.
It was impossible for us not to anthropomorphize everything.
And yes, watching ice skaters, the kind called figure skaters,
the ones who aren’t doing anything other than tracking again &
again some figure of infinity marked out on ice for them,
this never failed to quiet us down & take us some place else.
– Dara Wier, 2012
[Photos: Holga, early spring, last year//Grace Farson]