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Monday, February 22, 2016

The Circle Series Continues Even Though I Was Out Of Line




A confession to make before I begin. I stepped out of turn. I jumped ahead of the Line. Stood in the 14 items or less Line with an infinite number of items in my basket. I skipped over the natural progression, because, well because... 
...sometimes Lines make me nervous...

In the Circle Series, the natural progression is from a Point to a Line. Point to Point. Here to There. I, however, skipped the Line and jumped to the RAY... the natural progression that moves from a Point infinitely in either direction. 

Point. Line. Ray. 

Why, you might ask? Simple. 

I tend to get stuck in a Line. In the wrong Line. 

Tapping my foot impatiently, or tapping my fingers on the steering wheel anxious to get from Here to There and stuck in traffic. In those moments, I see a Line as so finite, so resolute, that there are no choices except to move from Point A to Point B, and to do it in a hurry. 

Perfectionists especially love Lines, and lanes, and boundaries, and endpoints. Finished, perfect, done. I possess that quality, yet I also rebel loudly against it.

What do you mean NO? I can’t? 

Beware any deviation from the norm, and insanity awaits. 

Color only between the Lines. 

Only. 

So, the Line and I tend to spar with one another even when I am in the best of moods. But that is truly unfair, on my part, because the Point does lead to the Line. 

Point connected to Point. 
An anchor of space and place.
A safe arrival. A goal achieved. 

Do you recall the pages in the old coloring books, Connect the Dots? Starting at one point, moving carefully until the picture begins to take shape, we smile as our hands grow increasingly confident of which way to move, to connect and complete the puzzle. 

A Line is a purposeful beginning,
 leading us often to a very happy ending. 

A Line is the intent to move move move. 

Finally, the way to embrace Lines as friends, is to recall that there is a starting Point and an end Point, with an immeasurable space in between. 

From One Inch to Two, there are infinite steps in between, infinite chances to glance left and right, ahead and back, while able to see the victory ahead. 

To skip over a LINE to a RAY without taking the time to practice, is risky business, like jumping out of a plane without a parachute. 

So my apologies to the LINE, 
and a promise that I will stay faithful and true,
 to the natural progression of the Circle Series. 

Because I don’t want to miss a thing. 

And neither do you. 




A line

Forward and reverse
between two points
you and me
us and them
here and there
a line of prose
or verse
a line on the bottom
a goal line
or a finishing line
measuring tape perfect
or a meandering string
of laugh lines
musical phrases
of streaming thought
what’s your line?
a worn out rut
a path out,
or a ledge






Tuesday, February 16, 2016

The Circle Series Continues From A Point To A Ray










I began the Circle Series in the previous blog...

Everything begins and ends. That is the Point

The Point I referred to in my previous post.

However, if you link a point to an infinite line in either direction it becomes...


A Ray


Remember please...Nature's line and design. 

The repeating patterns of nature. 

The complex made simple. The simple complex. 

As you read along with me on this geometric journey, find a starting POINT, 
then choose a direction. 

Take yourself on a walk out of doors. 
See if you can spot the geometric wonders that
surround you in your every day life. 



A ray

do-ray-Me
show some spine
branch out from your center
like the hands of a clock
tick
tock
tick
or spokes on a wheel 
petals on a flower
s t r e t c h  and  r e a c h
beyond your grasp
be a ray of sunshine
be a ray of hope
a beacon in the lighthouse


e   x   t   e   n   d     y   o   u   r   s   e   l   f 

shine





Tuesday, February 9, 2016

The Circle Series




Uncharacteristically for me, I begin to draw circles on my writing paper. I am stuck. Stuck on circles. Writing which brings me great comfort eludes me. 

More circles.
No words.
Why circles?

I am off to the bookstore to simply browse. Head down, I bump into a shelf. Head up, I see, not stars, but a circle... on the cover of a book. Odd. I buy the book. The story of Enso, a Zen calligraphy symbol. I sense pinpricks on my skin as I read of ancient artists spending lifetimes, learning to draw a perfect circle in one fluid flourish. One brushstroke. A circle unique unto its author.

I decide to wander through some of my worn lesson plans, sitting dust covered in the basement where I left them over five years ago. The first pages I discover are geometry lessons… about circles, 
points, lines and rays.  

I taught my fourth graders geometry through the line and design of nature. As I recall the first time I read about the repeating patterns of nature and the Fibonnacci numbers, a pressed leaf and a small shell escape the yellowed pages.

Nature's line and design. The repeating patterns of nature. The complex made simple. The simple complex.

I find my voice. 
The words return. 
Sweetness follows. 
I forgot how to be still. 
How to listen. 
How to be patient…
and the power of wonder. 

I hope you will find similar peace here, with me...if not here, then out there, where nature, like our lives, is ever constant, ever changing. Nature’s line and design repeating, renewing, drawing the eternal circle of life. 

From a point, 

to a ray, 
a line,  
a branch,  
a meander, 
a wave, 
a spiral, 
a knot, 
a crag...

to a circle... 

The Circle Series Begins...




A point

Is it
The beginning of a story
or the end of a sentence.

A marker in time
a solitary spot
or the birth of a sequence
of connections. 
The corner of a star
or the center of a circle.
The first blush of creativity
or the closing down of thought. 
The center of attention
the focal point
Or a pinprick of light
through the fog
that becomes a ray
                                                                                                                                                                            →→→→→ of hope.

                                                                                            gvw©2005
                                   




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