PLAY
“Without play, learning and evolution are impossible. Play is the taproot from which original art springs; it is the raw stuff the artist channels and organizes. Technique itself springs from play, by testing the limits and resistances of our tools.” -Stephen Nachmanovitch (qtd. in Writing the Natural Way by Gabriele Rico)
Yesterday I had a bad day. I discovered that instead of losing weight this week, as I expected, I had gained 1.2 pounds. I let my discouragement get to me. I did a lousy job of writing and felt stuck. About 3:00, when I had finally finished grading my English 101 papers (which were splendid, by the way), I realized that my uncle’s graveside service was beginning in Dryad, and I wished I was there — a 2 1/2 hour drive. Not possible. I drove home instead, and I went to bed. I slept for two hours!
A good dinner, my 13-year-old home safely from her field trip to Wenatchee (I picked her up at 6:00), a jigsaw puzzle. Bed by ten. Slept all night. This morning I sat down at the computer and instead of editing, editing, editing (which is what I usually do when I’m stuck), I tried to imagine what else might happen. In an abandoned house a child’s toy, a carved horse, appeared. A character I didn’t know was in the scene scooped it up and stuck it in his pocket.
This is why I write.


Over at 
As part of my homework for our class project, I have been rereading a book a friend recommended to me when my twins were toddlers. It is Don’t Shoot the Dog by Karen Pryor, and a great teaching manual to have on hand whether you are working with dogs, dolphins, or college students. No, I can’t claim to be much of a trainer, but the message I’ve absorbed from multiple readings is that it isn’t really the animal’s behavior (or the child’s) that you have control over, it’s your own. This book is filled with good humored anecdotes — from her cat’s perspective, Pryor tells us, “she is training me; she has found a way to get me to ‘Come'” — and offer food, besides.