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Cross Bow

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We’ve been studying Leonardo da Vinci’s crossbow design. So naturally my youngest son wanted to purchase a toy crossbow. His dad suggested he make one. Søren mulled it over for a few days then whipped out his design at the dinner table for Willie to approve.

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It’s Sunday. Søren set up shop on the picnic table, pulled down the plastic picnic pitcher, stocked it with ice water and drew the pattern for his design by hand on a piece of wood supplied by his dad. Søren has been chiseling by choice for two hours.

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My husband is a proud dad, keeps tapping me on the shoulder, “He’s been at it a long time.” He’s the dad pacing in the background like a kid himself waiting to jump when Søren is ready to transition to from chisel to file. I don’t think my husband the master woodworker is entirely sure that Søren’s design will work out perfectly, but there is no doubt in either of our minds that our son will learn much and have a blast trying his idea.

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Basho Haiku



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Basho wandered by foot through medieval Japan, kept a diary
of his journeys—prose woven with haiku. There is sublime simplicity in the
poet’s observations:

 A hundred years!

All here in the garden in

these fallen
leaves


 With plum blossom scent,

this morning sun emerges

along a
mountain trail


Basho’s work echoes the ordinary, revels in simplicity, and
invigorates the soul.  

This time, be creative with haiku form. After all, Basho
warned his students, “Do not simply follow in the footsteps of the ancients;
seek what they sought…abide by the rules, then throw them out!”

Concentrate on crafting lines with a designated number of
words instead of syllables:

five words

s e v e n  w o r
d s

five words

But, keep in mind, three lines should be woven to one
thought:

 

and I wait for the

scent stewed with honey, mottled with sun,

to ripen at room temperature


Explore Basho together and have fun writing some haiku. Use this image of pears in a bowl as a jumping off point or create your own still life. We'd love to read your poems so please share them here.

For more about Basho take a look at this wonderful book.

 

GrassSandals

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A Bike of His Own

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Fixed gear bicycles are all the rage in our neighborhood. I think this means that the bike can’t coast because the bike’s crank and the rear wheel are dependent of each other. What is so great about that? I mean I love coasting, don’t all girls?

Still Liam assures me that fixies are, “…awesome Mom.”

Whoever makes and markets these bikes is completely aware of this fact too because the bikes cost a small fortune. So this is how the conversation goes:

“Dad, can I get a fixie if I pay for it myself?”

“Sure Liam, but why don’t you make one?”

Liam had $200 to spend. All his friends ride $500 fixies. Back when his dad was a kid everyone had to have a BMX bike. He couldn’t ever have the newest or the coolest, but if he wanted it he could build it from a combination of used parts and a few new essentials.

Liam’s dad assured him that a homemade bike will never look like Lance Armstrong’s track bike, might not even look like the ones his friends ride but he will ride with the satisfaction of knowing that he made his bike.

And so bike construction began. Liam learned today how to purchase a spoke for 60¢, install it, and true the wheel instead of plunking down $100 for a brand new wheel. 

Ownership is certainly valid, but pride in craftsmanship has personal investment that can’t be bought.

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Foiled

The year I moved back to LA the first thing I did was pack
the kids in the car and head to art museums. I had been teaching art for years,
but here I was in LA, an art hub for sure, and I wanted them to experience what
we had studied in books and on the web in all its glory! So that first summer I
sought out art opportunities for my children, enrolled them in week-long
workshops at the Getty, Otis, and LACMA… back to back.

Week 1 Taylor and cousin Cloe hit LACMA, got some really
cool t-shirts with bright orange graphics and got to wander behind the scenes
at the museum. Last time I was at Tracey’s I smiled at the sculpture Cloe made
of blocks of wood that is perched on a shelf with other works of art.

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Week 2 at the Getty our kids came home with sculptures made
of meat trays, paper towel rolls, and yarn. Really? Tracey
and I raised our eyebrows, didn’t need words. Not sure what happened to those
sculptures.

Week 3 was Hannah’s turn to go to camp with cousin Cloe.
Otis Art Institute was on the schedule. When we arrived to pick our girls up, their faces were less than
enthusiastic. The girls had been given tempera, newsprint, and an easel and
were told to paint a dream… for three hours!

“Mom we have an easel in the back yard, do I have to go back
tomorrow.”

“No dear.”

That was the last summer I enrolled my children in art
workshops. Looking back, I know much was gained from those experiences that I
cannot re-create in our studio, but where was the canvas, acrylic and chalk
pastel on rag paper and clay that had to be fired in a kiln? Looking back, I must
admit I was a bit of an art materials snob.

I believe the creative work of children should be elevated
to a state of permanence. The
creative work of children is important. Striving for “perfect” is not the goal,
but elevating a child’s creative work validates their process and is a very
important goal. Back then I somehow came to the conclusion that using
sophisticated art supplies was the best way to achieve this goal.

But I’ve been enlightened by aluminum foil.

This past spring I wanted to teach the elements of sculpture
but didn’t want to simultaneously dive into the complexities of manipulating
clay or alabaster. So I taught my students to look at and think about 3D
objects and handed them a roll of foil. I think the results speak for themselves.

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LEGO Learning

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Building with LEGOs is academic. I have witnessed my boys
following complex directions, engaging in problem solving and demonstrating critical
thinking for hours upon end as they engage with LEGOs. When we pour two enormous tubs onto the
wool rug in the living room, I have witnessed my three boys learning to live
together in harmony on LEGO Island.

Being the mother of three imaginative boys, I made a pact
with myself long ago to not be annoyed by LEGO blocks scattered here and there.
But early yesterday morning in the kitchen, as we were racing to start the day,
I went sliding across the kitchen on a Ferrari F-1 driver, severing his
arm and nearly cracking my skull.
The race came to a halt. My
youngest son caught my eye. I took
a deep breath and said between gritted teeth, “That was close.” I took another breath, “Can he be
fixed?” Søren’s face beamed with a
wide smile.

I think what saved me in the kitchen
this morning was an image I had just snapped the day before—a little LEGO world
Søren had tucked near the leg of my desk right next to work stacking up. This
juxtaposition made quite an impact.

Today I was reminded of the value of play: LEGOs are
academic
.

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A House of Many Hats

For the past fifteen years, three (sometimes more) days a week my
home is transformed to a co-operative home school! It is tricky for a
house to wear many hats but ours has become an expert.

We utilize every
inch of our 1200 square feet (now there’s a math workout). During school
we give each space a name. To begin, a favorite space is: On the
Floor
. The living room is transformed to the Great Room and in that room
is Old Wood, the table where, by night, our family gathers for dinner. 


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The
kitchen table is always the kitchen table… but not exactly, sometimes we call
it the Gathering Place, other times The Table in the Pink Room. And then
there is our detached garage transformed School Room, the classroom with a
clubhouse feel.

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Because the weather is even keeled in our neck of the
woods, much learning takes place in our postage-sized backyard.
In the Garden
we’ve created cozy nooks to read and write. And then there’s recess… hmmm,
the boys always find a way for fun! 


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Ultimately our school environment is authentic,
and that is precisely what makes it, well chaotic at times, but without
doubt an artful inspiring home that is at once a school. 

 

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When Work Becomes Meaningful

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Taylor began tackling a concerto back in October. The process of moving from notes on a page to music was grueling, not only for him but for all the inhabitants of our home. For the piece to resemble music, he had to break the thing into sections to be played repeatedly.Whenever he made a mistake he would repeat that section… over and over, leaving notes to bounce off 1800 square feet of walls and tangle somewhere in the center of my brain.

I was relieved when the notes were at last learned, thought I would enjoy 3 to 4 melodic hours a day. Nope. The next stage was to add dynamics, which entailed playing Ravel’s ridiculously fast composition in fast motion… then slow motion through absolutely everything in between while stopping at sections where his fingers slipped to, you guessed it, fix each mistake three times. I pride myself a fairly patient person with broad musical appreciation, but any given section of this piece taken out of its entirety is fingernails on chalkboard. So this is how it went for three months straight.

When Taylor at last performed Ravel Concerto in G Major, III. Presto,

Presto… 

 

I was shocked, “What?!!!” I had no idea! Then his music teacher’s comment hit me on the head: “Taylor’s come into his own.”

My internal voice whispered in response, “Who was it up to before tonight?” It slowly dawned on me that the work of the teacher/mentor is implied in that overused phrase. As parents, Willie and I have never pushed or prodded Taylor to become a musician, but we have tirelessly encouraged him that his work matters. Taylor has worked hard to form this habit, but his teacher is right, he has at last embraced the work as his own.

Not only does Taylor play music, he writes music. Here is a recent composition:

 

Industrial Animation

 

This past week Taylor was sick and his one complaint was that he would not be able to work at his music… it’s true.

We are ridiculously busy in this world, at times too exhausted to chase our own dreams. As a teacher, my students readily share their dreams of being a prima ballerina or an astronaut or a paleontologist, or, in the case of my son, a performing composer. But what happens when we answer, “Yes you can,” pat them on the back and watch them while away hours on the X-Box? Dreams shrivel when students form enduring trivial habits.   

Becoming Juilliard material was never our goal. Fighting for a habit of purpose is costly in more ways than one, but we find a way. There is no doubt Taylor's skill serves him well and hopefully will encourage others to engage in the work of chasing a dream.

When the phone rang and a writer from the Los Angeles Times wanted to speak to Taylor… wanted to interview my son, I speechlessly handed over the phone. He has certainly come into his own, one note at a time. What I see developing in my oldest son's character is something that a standardized test will never measure.

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Poetic Justice

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Cloe was a budding poet from the time she could
hold a pencil and has grown into a teenager who poetically describes the value
of cultivating imagination.

boldness fuels creativity
longing for its sweet
honey
dreaming of liberation
imagination
drowned in a stagnant pool
is a
prisoner of war

Here was the third grader who recited Emily Dickenson
barefoot to a mesmerized schoolroom of boys and went on to receive national
recognition for her own poetry five years later. Cloe was a contemplative
student most content inside a great story. So when I read her response to the
following standardized test question I burst out laughing:

According to the passage, how would you best describe the
Library of Congress?
a.
cold
b. austere
c. cozy
e. dark

To Cloe, the description of the 200-year-old federal
cultural institution, an enormous library housing shelf upon shelf of rare
books resonated with pages straight from her imagination. I know this because I
had been working with her to revise those pages:

Perched on a sturdy willow branch I watched fireflies dance
in between gowns. I found myself completely bored until an hour before midnight
when I wove my way into Lady Cordial’s library. There I sat silently clutching
my plate of half eaten trifle, reading the many nonsensical books she had
collected over the years of training to be a versifier. Hours quickly passed
until the library bell loudly reminded me that it was one o’clock. I tiptoed
downstairs and was met by the ridiculing eyes of Maliesa. Not wanting to talk
about how amazing she was and how horrible I looked in my potato sack of a
dress. I escaped by accidentally dropping my dessert plate and running to fetch
a broom. (excerpt from Cloe’s,
“Pins and Needles”)

There was absolutely no doubt in Cloe’s mind that the
passage about the Library of Congress described a place providing a feeling of
comfort and warmth, that the question was best answered, “c” a “cozy” place.
There is no doubt in my mind that according to the writers of the test, “b” an
“austere” place was the desired response.

Quite simply, reading and writing poetry expands the
boundaries of the imagination and the intellect. Students who engage in writing
poetry will develop a broader understanding of the power of vocabulary,
increase confidence in their voice, and strengthen their ability to communicate
new ideas and observations about their world.


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Blackbird & Company’s Exploring Poetry guide gives students an opportunity to delight in the reading of great poetry and discover the craft of writing poems, incorporating both analytic and creative exercises to spark the poet inside of your student.

Created for middle and high school students, Exploring Poetry is appropriate for 5th grade and beyond and is designed to work for a range of writing abilities. 

The bundle includes a seven-week poetry guide that can be expanded to 14 weeks, a personal writer’s journal, art cards and three required books.

If you are interested in opportunities to explore poetry with your younger students take a look at these poetry-based literature discovery guides:

Eb_florian_bnd_MED Our Earlybird Douglas Florian Author Unit takes 1st and 2nd grade students through five illustrated read-aloud books of educational and delightful animal poetry. This guide follows the same format as our other Earlybirds while providing opportunities for your youngest students to explore writing poetry on their own. Books included: In the Swim (water creatures), Lizards, Frogs, and Polliwogs (reptiles), Mammalabilia (mammals), Insectlopedia (insects), and On the Wing (birds).

For older students, another great way to introduce poetic forms and the power of poetry to tell stories is through our Love That Dog and Locomotion guides.


Love_that_dog_bnd_MEDLove That Dog, by Sharon Creech is a poignant and masterfully crafted story written entirely in verse, through the eyes of Jack, a boy who reluctantly discovers the poet within himself. Although this guide is a Level 1 (grades 1-3) title, it can be used through 4th grade when appropriate for the student's reading and writing level. Love That Dog includes many of the same elements as our other Level 1 guides, such as vocabulary, comprehension and discussion questions, but each week, students will be encouraged and guided in writing poems in the same styles and forms that Jack is writing. Exposure to several classic poets such at William Carlos Williams and Robert Frost are creatively woven into the story.


Locomotion_bnd_MED
Locomotion, by Jaqueline Woodson, also written in verse, is about Lonnie C. Motion, a boy who has had some tough breaks in his life. As Lonnie’s fifth grade class is learning to write poetry, suddenly, he is finding the words to tell about his family, the fire that took his parents away, his little sister, and his world. In this Level 3 (grades 5-8) guide, students will work though exercises on charcter study and comprehension, as well as poetic devices such as simile, metaphor and personification. Students will read and make observations on Lonnie’s poems, while also writing their own that mirror the forms and topics that the story introduces.

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June Bug in July



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Today I gave Søren the job of dusting window sills. Quick as lightening.

“All done Mom.”

“Great, thanks buddy.”

About an hour later, concerned by a large slice of silence, I wandered into the kitchen and discovered my son at the table with his sketching gear examining a dead June Bug strategically posed on a paper plate. 

Windowsill booty.


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“Wow Søren, what's all this?”

“Remember that beetle at the Getty mom?”

One word: Observation.

Need I say more?

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