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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.


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