The students in my English 123 (Freshman Composition) classes at SCAD (Savannah College of Art and Design) are doing what I call Visual Essays in this, their next-to-the-last week of Fall Quarter 2014. We read two books this term, Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist and Tal Ben-Shahar’s Happier, both relating to our course theme of “Happiness and the Exploration of Joy.” The Visual Essay project invites the students to MAKE, rather than write, their papers. Traditional essay requirements are still required: a focus and thesis, structure, detail and support, etc. But this essay morphs into a drawing or painting, a sculpture, a collage, a video, a food, etc. Basically this project is a visual representation of one topic narrowed into a clear thesis/perspective/idea. The challenge: how to “show” their thesis.
Debora Jacob (from Brazil) went to Forsyth Park here in Savannah last Saturday. Here’s her Visual Essay titled “Happiness Shared” on the topic of the smile and its significance.
It’s All Hallow’s Eve! (Wasn’t it just July 4th last week?) And I am spookily happy. Seriously. Here’s why.
1. Yesterday going to my grandtwins’ nursery school and carving a Jack O’ Lantern. Here it is:
Okay, that’s a lie. I took that pic near my place in historic district Savannah. Here’s the one I did:
Sorry but that’s a lie as well. (Is that a bat?) Here’s mine:
For more decades than I care to mention, my Jack O’Lanterns have looked EXACTLY the same. But what fun with Matthew and Madison and their little classmates.
2. Speaking of pumpkins, here’s my dinner Wednesday night–Butternut Squash Soup in Pumpkin Bowls.
Oh. My. Goodness. Gourmet heaven.
3. The Savannah Film Festival this week, hosted by my SCAD–Savannah College of Art and Design.
Such fun.
What incredible films I saw, including a fascinating documentary about Summerville, GA artist Americana Howard Finster and a mesmerizing selection of short films from Ireland.
4. Singing with James Brown in Augusts, GA.
We’re belting out “Papa’s Got a Brand new Bag,” followed by “Make it Funky.”
Summer is slipping away. Can you believe that Sept 22 is the First Day of Fall?! Would someone please tell Savannah’s daily temperatures that bit of info?
1. Even though it caused a catch in my throat, seeing the pics my daughter Emily sent of the grandtwins yesterday morning — September 11.
2. Actually borrowing an egg from my next door neighbor. (Is it okay to still do that?)
(Of course she put the egg in a cute tiny bowl she found in Italy.)
I paid Vivian back with some Werther’s Originals–Chewy Caramels in the same bowl. (Is that normal?)
3. This green lion who (which?) lives nearby in Savannah’s historic district.
4. Taking four-year-old grandson Gabriel to his first-ever tennis lesson.
Looking back at me, “Abu,” to make sure I’m watching.
5. And speaking of Gabriel, when I picked him and brother Daniel (7) up from school yesterday, G told us that he made a BIG picture of Batman in pre-K art class. When we got to his house, of course we hung it in the dining room.
After a few minutes, big brother Daniel, after pointing out that Gabriel had spelled Batman with an M (Matman), said to me, “Matman sure looks like a monkey to me.”
So this morning I decided to “do church” by driving twenty minutes south from my place in Savannah’s historic district to Tybee Island. Even though the dark clouds kept threatening to open up, I communed with nature and thanked God for the beauties of creation.
(I wanted to take up an offering, but the obviously heathen beachcombers just would not cooperate.)
So I walked.
And looked.
And listened.
And then, lo and behold, at one point I glanced up from checking my stock portfolio …
… and all of a sudden JUST KNEW what my Tybee trip this morning was Really All About:
“Look! I am meant to Be a Lifeguard!”
And, clearly, the island is in dire need–the lifeguard stand stands sadly empty.
“Hey you! Yes you!”
“I’m talking to you!”
“That swimming suit looks ridiculous on you!! What were you thinking?!”
And a little later:
“Oh gosh, someone’s in trouble! I gotta take action!”
After the life save, I hurried back up to my post 14.
And then this “official” rescue personage came driving up …
… and asked me what the heck I was doing on a condemned life guard stand. Like it wasn’t crystal clear that I was saving lives while he was golf-carting around and looking at girls.
“Sir, for future reference, please do not climb on these old structures. And be careful climbing down.”
(As if a fit lifeguard like me would have any issues.)
If you need me at the beach, rest assured, I will be on the lookout.
I just got back from a very warm but invigorating and visually stunning morning walk. Today I trekked a few blocks over to Jones Street, one of the most beautiful residential avenues in Historic District Savannah.
I decided to look for GREEN on Jones, and boy did I find it! Here’s a (rather large) sampling of what I saw.
Go Green.
(Oh, and here’s an old post featuring Jones Street at Christmas.)
1.Happy Chinese New Year 2014!The Year of the Horse. (The new year starts today, Jan. 31!)
2. Speaking of celebrations, as some of you know, the #%*! birthday of Yours Truly occurred earlier this month. What you don’t know is that, for some reason (which I should probably discuss with my therapist), I HATE being sung Happy Birthday to at restaurants. It just SO embarrasses me. I turn beet red. So when daughter Amy suggested La Parrilla for my family bday celebratory meal, I IMMEDIATELY said, “NO!” (probably too loudly) because of the huge sombrero …
… which must be worn as ALL the staff gathers round and screamingly sings, “Feliz Cumpleaños a ti!” I quickly chose another restaurant where I knew they did not serenade patrons.
And my %+&! bday passed by without the public festive vocalization.
Tonight after the gym, I went to La Parrilla for chimichanga. Feeling brazen, I ordered a mojito. And as required by restaurant rules (as opposed to simply glancing at my graying hair), the friendly, delightful waitress Kimberly asked to see my ID. I smiled and showed her my driver’s license, to which she seemingly sincerely and joyfully replied, “Oh! Happy late birthday!” I thanked her and went back to seeing how much salsa I could get on one tortilla chip.
A delicious meal later, I heard clapping hands, MANY thunder-clapping hands, and looked up to see a sea of La Parrilla employees–waiters and waitresses, the hostesses, the bartender, the manager, cooks, dishwashers, janitors, the owner, the business partners, the accountants, the CEO, the CFO, most of the diners (okay maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but not much) –walking (skipping?) from the other side of the restaurant. I thought to myself, “Whew, gosh, somebody’s in for it!” but smiled and pretended to join the revelry as the loud little army marched forward. I looked around to see who looked bithdayish. I spotted a chubby man with long dreads, eating a tamale but looking up and grinning at the clappers. “This is kinda fun,” I thought, ready even to clap and sing a tiny bit. The guy looked so happy.
But then, the musical marauders didn’t turn toward tamale’s table. They stopped at mine! Total confusion. But then it happened. The big sombrero …
… gingerly landed on my head (placed there by the CEO, I think). And louder than loud: “Feliz Cumpleaños a ti!” over and over.
But to my utter amazement (and probably because I wasn’t expecting it and it happened so quickly) I found myself actually ENJOYING the impromptu celebration.
So when the crowd left my table (looking winded and exhausted), but while tamale was still gazing (a little envious, I think), I threw the sombrero down on the floor and expertly performed the traditional Mexican Hat Dance.
That showed them. And I thought it was a good way to thank Kimberly, as I sat back down to enjoy my complimentary sugary sopapillas.
3. Another great winter soup, made with (among other things) beet stems and beet greens
So last night good friends Donnie and Kinzie (Donnie is at SCAD–the Savannah College of Art and Design–studying film, and Kinzie is a talented photographer) texted me from their holiday soiree in hometown Urbana, Illinois:
Donnie in pic below:
My response:
(Maybe I shouldn’t have included that part of text about crying over Tiny Tim IN A MUPPET MOVIE. It’s a little embarrassing, mainly because it’s true. Then again, maybe I shouldn’t have confessed that part about truth. Oh well, water under the bridge now.)
The next interchange between Kinzie and me:
You see, I live in Savannah, GA. That’s right, the deep South, and we ain’t never hearda snow. But, if you can believe Donnie and Kinzie, it’s this white, frozen stuff that falls out of the sky. Ha! Right! Like I’m falling for that. And it seems you can make “snow men” out of it. Ha! Right! The only snow man I can make is outta socks:
So, professor that I am, I decided to do some serious research about Donnie’s and Kinzie’s “snow.” Of course I headed straight to UrbanDictionary.com. And, looky here, Donnie and Kinzie. Here’s what snow means:
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1. Snow — Something that is radical, cool, or otherwise awesome. Something that is snow is generally the sh_t, being top score, bitchin, etc. The word is derived from the fact that snow is generally off the hook in its beauty, power, and pimpery.
“Duuuuude I just saw Predator and it was sooooo snow.”
9. Snow — It is the process of adding lots of small hole-punched papers into a nuggeted back pack.
“Who snowed my back pack?”
10. Snow — Mislead, especially by overwhelming with (mis)information. Deceive. Hoodwink Bamboozle.
“The teacher was snowed by the seemingly endless barrage of students’ questions and failed to realize what was really occurring in the classroom.”
25. Snow — Snow is a racist term used to describe white people in general, mainly because their skin tone is white as snow.
“Damn, look at that snow whitey, he’s white as snow.”
32. Snow — To shed excess amounts of dandruff on another person.
“Mary was disgusted when John came over and snowed on her shoulder.”
The good folks at the Statesboro Unitarian Universalist Fellowship (especially the Pastoral Care Associate–Shari Barr and the Minister–Reverend Dr. Jane Altman Page) up the road in my old stomping ground of Statesboro, Georgia, where I taught at Georgia Southern University for twenty-plus years, invited me to deliver the message at last Sunday’s service. What fun! What joy!
I’ve visited a UU fellowship a time or two before, but had not really looked into their beliefs. It seems they hold seven principles to be guidance:
1st Principle: The inherent worth and dignity of every person;
2nd Principle: Justice, equity and compassion in human relations;
3rd Principle: Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations;
4th Principle: A free and responsible search for truth and meaning;
5th Principle: The right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large;
6th Principle: The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all;
7th Principle: Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.
Wow! All beliefs I hold as important in life.
I arrived a bit early and took pics outside their building.
Once inside, Shari met me and explained the order of the service.
And here I am with the Rev. Jane (who I knew for years as a colleague at Georgia Southern).
Before the service I reconnected with old friends, such as Donna Jones, an officemate of mine in the English Department for years at GSU:
My talk entitled “Becoming a Balcony People,” about the importance and power of encouragement, went over SO well with the group, mainly because of the attentive folks in attendance.
(Okay, I know I look a little goofy in that picture.)
What are Balcony People, you ask? Here’s a brief excerpt from my message:
I submit for your consideration this morning the very simplistic notion that there exist two kinds of people: Balcony People and Basement People. Balcony People are the folks you come in contact with who encourage you, bless you, give of themselves in some way. They climb the steps up into your balcony, so to speak, lean over the railing, and yell, “You’re doing great!” “Keep going!” “I appreciate you so much.” “You help make my life better.” “I love you.” “No, your butt’s not too big. Really!”
But in addition to Balcony People, there’s a second category of folks, Basement People. Basement People go down the steps of your basement, where it’s Dark and Damp and Depressing … and then try to pull you down with them! They wound with words, or the absence of words. They harm and cause damage. They verbally vandalize.
I love the UU symbol:
May we all allow our true inner lights of goodness and joy to shine forth.
Thank you, Statesboro UU. May all good continue to flow to you!
NealEnJoy 