In My Backyard

These water lilies were blooming yesterday in my backyard. Monet would be jealous.


Morning Conversation

Today is a state mandated test day for public schools. Cherry Crisp’s grade level is not being tested. She will sit all day, working math problems she already knows how to solve.

“Do you have a book to read?”

“Mom, I’m a reader.” Plosive puffs of disgust escape rosebud lips. “Asking a reader if she has a book is like asking a writer if she has a pen.”


New Tools

In his book Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell calls the time it takes to be good at something the 10,000-Hour Rule. That’s how long it takes. 10,000 hours. That’s twenty hours a week for ten years.

Cherry’s been taking classes at a community art center for over a year. This week, when she tried to enroll for fall semester, every class she wanted was cancelled. The choices were: repeat a beginning class or enroll in a medium that isn’t her thing.

From writing a novel, I’ve learned there is no substitute for time. I’ve also learned to trust my own judgement, to make the story mine, and to keep writing until it’s something I want to claim.

With her tuition money, Cherry bought art supplies. Real artist supplies–acrylic paint, a pallet, calligraphy pens, canvases, books on technique. This week, she started logging her 10,000 hours.

Cherry, the artist with her subject, Jasmine.

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