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 Protecting my inner child. The one with the easy smile, bright wardrobe, and the one who is unashamedly in love with cars and a full belly. Some days productivity and positivity sit on your doorstep. Today has been one of those days.
I woke up naturally at 430am. I felt energized and ready to get my day rolling. So, I packed my backpack, started the coffee, and hit the door by 5am. "Luna", my personal getaway car, transported me into Littleton and parked me at Vasa. As of the past two weeks, I've gotten back into the "5am Club". This honorary club consists of a mix of the Silver Sneakers, the "Meat-Heads", and the few daily grinders who are obviously still enjoying chocolate cake on the weekends. Today, I arrived to an empty gym and the scarcity of people made the gym feel like a playground to be enjoyed. I began with a fifteen minuet warm-up on the stair-master and then I did a leisurely "full body" lift for the remaining ninety minuets. I felt strong and inspired as I felt my heart rise and fall as I listened to a podcast. Following my playground lift, I did quick drive to my Auntie Angie's for our scheduled book club meeting. We wrapped up our reading of "Freakanomics" and stayed mostly on topic. One of the most interesting conversations that was prompted was by the question of, "If you were told today that you only had year to live, would your life change?". The responses were varied around the table, but they all boiled down to the idea that life is short and that we should be living each moment doing what we love with the people that we love. This conversation reminded me of a quote that I love which speaks of the passion that I hope to live each day with; it is, "“I would rather be ashes than dust. I would rather my spark burn out in a brilliant blaze than be stifled by dry rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom in magnificent glow – than a sleepy and permanent planet. The proper function of man is to live, not merely exist…I shall use my time.”. This quote is by the American Novelist Jack London and it as if he reached into the cosmos of my heart and pulled out this gem. I want to be alive. I want to burn. I want to be superb. I want to use my time. One of my greatest fears in life is to live an unrealized life. To live a life were I settle or that I conduct my life out of fear and resignation to the status quo. I want to turn each stone and address the questions of life. I want to drink deeply of what the world has to offer, but not in a way that is grasping. No, instead I want to indulge in the now. To see the beauty that is all around me. I want to burn in each moment. To be sensitive to each moment and soak in the divinity and goodness that is around me. To do this, I must protect my inner child. To shelter the child inside of me that still sees every opportunity to play and explore. Because, as Nietzsche said “A man’s maturity is to have regained the innocence of a child at play.”. So, go play. Enjoy life without needing the "one year to live" countdown.  Check out my "Music" tab at the top of the page to dive into a review of The Glass Animals' newest album "Dreamland".
Give it a read. But more importantly, listen to the album (preferably at night with the smoke of a Swisher enveloping you and the sound).  Yo soy Chicana. A woman who was born in the United States, but whose roots are in the red clay of Mexico. My high cheek bones and sharp nose disclose my native mixing. My dark eyes point to the Spanish conqueror who was formerly conquered by the Moors. I am blended, I am exotic. You cannot pin me down.
I am a woman of color. Whose blood runs as red as my lipstick color of choice. The vibrant colors of the sarape are reflected in the bold color and patterns that grace the curves that I've inherited from my mothers. I stand out, by choice and by a deep influence that demands the attention of others. I am the warrior. The "adelita" who rides bareback into war. A warrior whose pistol bounces off of the curve of my childbearing hip. A warrior whose bandolier wraps my full chest and accentuates my narrow waist. I am beauty and power who is ready for the fight of the everyday. I am a force of love. A woman full of passion and a fire within. Eyes that burn and desire a fullness of life. A life that dives and does not sway. A woman who seeks the loveliness of the now. A woman who sees the richness that lives right above our plane of sight. I want the force that echos the swing of my hips and the beat of my ancestors' planted heart. Yo soy Chicana.
My day started with a hot shower and "Music Sounds Better With You" playing on my bluetooth speaker. With this combo, I was bound to have a killer day. If you have not heard this song yet, then please bless your ears right this moment. You'll be shimming those shoulders and bobbing your head in no time. The next ingredient to my "cloud nine" day was the construction and wearing of a fun and funky outfit. Today I wore my wide legged, high-waisted, multicolored striped pants. The stripes vary in width and the yellow and lavender stripes complement each other in an unexpected way. I adore them. I paired the linen pants with my black, mock neck, body suit. For accessories I had my black pumps, red lipstick, and my yellow fabric hoop earrings. It was an easy outfit, but it was a show-stopping outfit. My day continued to improve as I stepped into each of my classes. My favorite class today was with the sixth graders. They are so fun to be with because they are not afraid to be silly. I walked into their class singing and they joined right in. I continued to sing the agenda for the day and they loved it. So, I kept going. I sang the lecture for the remainder of the class and the students sang back their responses. It was entertaining on both ends and I think they are going to retain the hell out of my lesson on "Possessive Pronouns vs. Possessive Adjectives". For possessive pronouns we highlighted the idea that they "stand alone" and for adjectives they always need a partner. I would then question them with examples, and they would sing their responses. At one point, I shorthanded "adjective" with "ADJ" and I said, "Hey, that sounds like when you're up in the club and you're requesting a song....like, 'Aye, DJ!'". They loved it. Each time we came across an "adjective" they said, "Aye, DJ" and pointed to the imaginary DJ in the booth. The success of that class in the middle of the day powered me through the rest of my work day and into my leisure time. I wrapped up my faculty meeting, grabbed a quick dinner from King Soopers and ate it with the sunset, hit Earth Treks, and now I am ending my day sipping a peach tea. It was a good ass day.
Reflection: I had a pretty glorious weekend. I had some fun, some intellectual stimulation, a lot of physical activity, and some productivity. My "Monday", which was today, went really smooth. The kids were mellow, joyful, and ready to work.
One of the highlights of my day was the "Inktober" activity that I have been engaging the kids in at the beginning of class. "Inktober" is an annual event which one word prompts are provided to help spark creativity in "inking". This is my first time practicing "Inktober" because it was actually introduced to me by one of my eighth graders. I decided to indulge in the practice and introduce it to all of my middle school students. And guess what? They love it. Today's prompt was "Rodent". I gave my students five minuets to search for an image to inspire their drawing via their chromebook and then they had 15 minuets to draw freely. I encouraged them to not simply draw a rat, but instead think about all the other rodents in our world: squirrels, gerbils, chinchillas ,etc. Once they had selected their rodent of choice I told them that a strong drawing should tell a story. I encouraged them to put their rodent in a funny situation or to personify it in some way. And man, the results were amazing! Below are some of results: -A squirrel riding a bicycle -A ferret putting on a magic show -A squirrel "vibing out to music in his covertible as he cruised at midnight". (This description was very specific...but I vibed as well) -A rat who fell in love with a trash can I should have taken photos, because it was amazing to see how creative they were in such a short period of time. It really did inspire me. They were confident in their odd ideas and they were so excited to share their silly drawings with the whole class via the document camera. Their freedom of expression and their easy creativity reminds me the power of creativity and not taking yourself too seriously. A spontaneous moment from my day included stopping at a co-ed softball game that was happening as I left Earth Treks this evening. I was stopped at the light at Belleview and Windermere and looked to my left and saw the comforting sign of that yellow canvas ball being tossed between two players. I had forgotten that it is softball season. So, I threw Luna into a quick U-turn and parked at Belleview park to catch a game. As I sat down on the three tiered metal spectator benches, I was quickly reminded of the intricacies of softball culture. I have been exposed to softball culture for the past twenty years of my life. Not only did I grew up playing softball, but I grew up watching my dad play softball at "Softball Country" in North Denver. However, when you are away from a population for a while and you encounter it again with fresh eyes, you are better able to discern the absurdity and oddity of it all. Below are my observations (yes, I took out my notebook...it was just too much for me to digest). -Age Demographics: 25-40 years old -Gender Demographics: 70% male & 28% female. The other 2% were indistinguishable. -Ethic Demographics: Predominately white. Out of the thirty-ish people, there were three latinos. -No masks. What is COVID? -Open containers everywhere. "Darl, your on deck...put down your beer". -The team names were "Deep Throw It" & "Yager Bombers". I found these to be quite hilarious and creative. Kudos to the pun-masters on each team. -Names on the back of jerseys (for those who wore jerseys): "Krazy", "Bad Betch", "Silver Fox", "Lugnut", and "Dadbod". Again, I loved this. It had me dreaming of my own softball persona. I think I'd go for "Chi-Chi". -The personalities and body types were varied. All were welcome. The most colorful of them all was a thirty-five year old latino who had bleached and spiked his hair like Guy Fieri. He could have been his doppelgänger, body type and all. It was a fun hour of watching the chaos that is co-ed softball. Both teams were having a blast and it was great to see people doing something that they love. They were hanging out, talking shit, and enjoying the perfect fall weather. That softball field served as a nice haven away from the mundane world of grocery shopping, dinner cooking, news watching, and for me, grading papers. It's been a wonderful day.
When I was thirteen. my family moved out of Westwood and into the suburbs of Lakewood. With the increased square footage came a large fireplace. That fireplace quickly became the heart of our home and we found ourselves in need of a new essential, firewood.
Instead of buying firewood bundle by bundle, we teamed up with some family friends to venture into their land near Evergreen and chop and collect our own firewood. We would rise early on Saturday mornings, pack our lunches, and jump into the car and head toward the trees. I have many fond memories of running through the woods, building dams in the mountain streams, sitting on moss heaps while eating trail mix, and learning how to use a chain saw to manipulate a tree's fall. We did this for close to five fall seasons until life got a little two busy for both families. Instead of getting up each Saturday to collect wood, we chose the convenience of having wood delivered directly to the house once each fall. My parents love to burn a fire as soon as it drops below sixty degrees; therefore, we need a lot of wood to get us through the winter. They order two cords. Now, I didn't know the official definition of a cord...so I googled it. Here is what I found: "A full cord is a great amount of wood. It measures A cord measures 4-feet x 4-feet x 8-feet and features a volume of 128 cubic feet. The entire length of the pile should be 8 feet (2.4 m), but the length of every piece of wood matches the width or depth of the pile and will average about 4 feet (1.2 m)." Now, that's a lot of lumberjack-talk for a shit-ton-of-wood. When the delivery comes, it's all hands on deck. Wood is dropped in a large pile and like ants we move it from one pile to the next. The wood in a pattern that alternates in a Jenga pattern so as to tie the wood together. It's not really hard work, but it is tedious. This year's labor was fun because I got to work along side my siblings, my parents, and my brother-in-law. We began the process with a Mexican breakfast: refried beans, potatoes, ground beef green chile, and bacon. Then I threw on my overalls and sun hat, fired up the boombox, and got to moving the load. The once a year wood delivery isn't nearly as nostalgic or fun as my teenage adventures in the Evergreen forest, but they are still an opportunity to bond over a shared labor and goal. I think I'll forever love this process because at the root of it I am helping warm the place that is the heart of the home. Hey, hey, hey! I've made some page updates. Check out the following pages for the following topics:
-Poetry & Art: "Fourth Week of September" & "First Week of October" -Middle School Teacher: "Teaching in a Pandemic" & "Social Emotional Education". -Denver Life: "Angelo's CDs, Vinyls, & More" & "The Brutal Poodle" -Style: "Hair Chop", "Blushing in September", & "Recess Duty or Greek Vacation". |
AuthorBrianna is a proud native of West Denver and she is an avid admirer of the arts. Her admiration of the arts is centered around her draw toward the beautiful and good of everyday life. Brianna finds beauty in a well-worn book, in the eclectic colors and textures of a thrift store find, and in the sound of a killer guitar solo whether it be live or through a well thought out Spotify playlist. Her passions are varied and many, but they all center on appreciating the fullness of life. Archives
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