What to do when finishing a book that has no end?
How to conclude what has no conclusion?
This week, because the weather is so warm, I hold class outside.
Sometimes, that's all that's needed.
Sometimes, it's not nearly enough.
|selection from the rainy day portrait gallery of collaborative kids' drawings|
I notice that when I close my eyes and the sun is shining upon the lids, I can see the red of the flesh and the outlines of cells. I notice that when I blink my eyes I can see faint membranes sliding across my vision and reason that they must always be there, but that I rarely notice.
I remember first noticing these eye ghosts when I was a child and reporting it to my mom who was at first concerned, but then as I described it, came to recognize it as maybe a dead cell floating on my eyeball.
I notice a girl sitting in a boy’s lap with her arm around his neck. I notice the sound of a skateboard and a girl yelling and music coming from a radio. I hear the squeak of the flag whipping from the pole and the distant roar of traffic that never dies.
I notice the birds chirping and a leaf skittering across the sidewalk and I notice that the sun is in and out of clouds. I notice a car engine rev and a boy cry, “Eddie!” I notice that the students are all still writing.
I notice that some are doodling.