So I finished my trimester 2 grades last night. Around 1 AM. Because the thought of working on them over the weekend gave me the heebie jeebies. I really truly must have a break dammit. So I graded the last assignment and input a bunch of stuff and finalized all of it and analyzed the kids who were on the cusp and determined they hadn’t made an effort to bring their grades up, so they were stuck with the real-live numbers. I really am a numbers woman when it comes to grading. Let them fall where they belong. Rubics for all! However, I’ve decided I need to start using some new codes. I had one I was using with the kids that I can’t remember now, because I was tired of writing them same thing over and over again. So if they saw FRUP (or whatever the fuck it was), they knew what it meant. They already know WU is warmup (not to be confused with my personal life, where WU is Wonder Under…luckily I can tell them apart) and EC is extra credit and HW is homework and I is incomplete. And no. F is not Fabulous. It’s Fired.

I have two more codes to add after grading the last few assignments: FA for Fucking Awesome. Like you’re the kid who makes me get up out of bed in the morning and come into school, because you remind me that I know what I’m doing and you’re getting it and running with it and  BLESS YOU MY CHILD. Luckily there are about 10 of these. Mostly girls. Interesting that. They really do help me survive this year. LOOK! I taught them.

The second one? MSU…for Made Shit Up. Because you did. Because I asked you to summarize what you just read and (a) you didn’t read it or (b) you don’t understand it or (c) you are just a jerk who thinks teachers don’t read assignments (sometimes we don’t). You just made up random shit and typed it up and turned it in and if I call you on your shit you will tell me “I tried!” or “That’s what it said!” at which point, I throw the story at you (I don’t do this in real life…just in my head) and demand you POINT TO WHERE IT TALKS ABOUT THAT in the story. I got that from the English teacher, who might be as frustrated as I am this year. Which helps, because then I know it’s not just me going off the deep end.

I think I’m probably gonna get in trouble if I use this one on a regular basis. But seriously, nowhere in the story did they mention surgery or cystic fibrosis. You just fucking made that goddamned shit up. And you alternately annoyed me and depressed me with your actions. So no. You get no points for that.

So I just needed to be done. With grades. And I was. And that would have been fine if I hadn’t had to get up this morning to take down my show. Which is now down. Took a whopping 10 minutes to get it down. And now I’m exhausted because I didn’t sleep anywhere near enough.

Now I didn’t put all those other quilts away that I pulled out while the show was up. Didn’t see the point. Wanted to reorganize the whole mess anyway, because sometimes I can’t find stuff. Seriously. Annoying. I had rolls of quilts I had taken and not used in the show, rolls of those I decided not to bring at the last minute, and rolls of those that were never in the running. One was on the floor in my bedroom next to the bed. I’ve been climbing over it since mid-January. Two were in the little living room and another smaller one in the living room.

So today was the day. Put it all away. In the past, I’ve kept them rolled up in old sheets on the upper shelves in my closets…or the kids’ closets. And that works pretty well, although sometimes lifting up the rolls (or quilt burritos) is difficult by myself. I’m still young! Well. You know. Enough. I’m not very tall though.

So I laid out two sheets, the one on the left for larger quilts and the one on the right for smaller ones. Although in this picture, there doesn’t appear to much difference in the size of what’s on top!

So this is another excavation. You may not know that I made my first “art” quilt in 1990. This may or may not be it. No seriously, I think it is. We were supposed to bring in a drawing, and then she taught us machine piecing of all the curved pieces and machine applique on top for some of it as well. Or maybe she had a drawing for some people to use. I know I had drawn this for a screenprint I never made. I’d taken classes from Susan before…one is further down this pile. But this one is dated 1990. And it has a small amount of silk ribbon embroidery on it as well. What’s amazing is I still have some of that gray street fabric.

Susan taught me traditional quilting as well. The one and ONLY mariners compass I have or will ever make. Seriously.

Pain in the ass. Then I started taking some art quilt classes from local quilt guilds and began to mess with the more freehand approaches they taught me. These were all pinned down and sewn down. Something to do with Frida Kahlo…can’t remember exactly, but I actually started keeping track of the art quilts at this point…this is 2000…probably based on how Joan Colvin taught me to construct quilts.

Meanwhile, I had been making applique landscape quilts with Susan all that time, so I tried an art quilt with hand applique. Oh yeah. That’s not fast. This is dated 2000, but I know the drawing was done when I was nursing my son, because it’s called Soda Sux, Wine Is Better. I had these nasty headaches during and post-pregnancy, but was encouraged not to drink tea. She suggested sodas (ironic considering my current status as a diabetic, but whatever). Dammit. We all know what’s better.

Anyway, I quickly realized I was never ever going to finish quilts if I did them all by hand. So with a few more teachers’ techniques under my belt, I figured out the way I make them now.

Anyway. More piling of quilts until the pile was big enough to roll. I needed a way to keep track of what was in the roll, so I wrote them down and put them in a plastic sleeve that’s taped to the sheet…

Rolled-up burrito o’ quilts.

I used to just have a paper list taped to the roll, but this makes more sense I think. Because they got all torn up and trashed over time.

Found this one too…Genesis. Very simple, bunch of embroidery on it. I had some weird idea and here’s what happened. Can’t always explain art brain.

I got the one big burrito rolled up and started on a second big one, while I kept the small one going.

And the final product: two large and one smallish burrito. About 90 quilts in there.

I pulled one big one that needs a bottom sleeve so it will hang better. It might be in another show this year. I pulled another big one because I’m going to hang it in the living room finally. And I hung one other one that had been out for the show. I have two more that I think I need help to hang. I’m only so tall and long-armed. Like not really. No one’s here to help me lift those burritos up either. I can do it by myself…usually. But I’m debating storing them under the bed instead. Just for easier access. Yes, there’s already stuff under the bed, but maybe it can find a better home. I’m thinking about it. So I’m not putting these away until I decide.

Now I’m going to go trace some Wonder Under. Because I fucking can. Because I finished my work for the weekend (except I have to deliver a quilt…debating doing it tomorrow, although it makes more sense to do it today. Aargh). I hate this shit where you have to be responsible and do stuff you said you would do. And I want cookies. So there.

I have this pool vacuum that sometimes tries to climb out of the pool. I’m listening to it now, realizing it sounds like a wild animal devouring burgers in the backyard (sorry, neighbors…I don’t know how to make it stop doing that). It doesn’t seem to bother the ducks…they avoid it, but they don’t stay away because of that. Nor do they stay away because of the Golden Retriever who swims in the pool and barks at them. Halfheartedly. Like, “get outta my pool bitches…eh…stay awhile. I don’t really care.”

I’m barely awake, despite the shower and a reasonable (for me) amount of sleep. My sleep app tells me 4 AM was troubled sleep. I don’t doubt it. I already know I have to be up early on Saturday, my normal morning of rest. Oh well. Sleep is wasted artmaking time. Might as well rejoice in what little I get.

The plus is that the tracing is going well…

I traced over 150 pieces last night in less than an hour…because they’re small pieces, so they don’t take as long to draw. Duh. That’s a plus. So there’s only 600 pieces to go. Too bad grading is competing for my time. I did grade papers last night. I might sort of get caught up (maybe). Don’t hold your breath. I don’t think teachers are ever really caught up. Even in the summer, we are prepping for the next year, how are we gonna change things or fix things, or in the summers that follow for the next THREE years, how do we transition to new science standards with no curriculum. No problem! say the districts. There’s the INTERNET. It’s like magic. Curriculum just appears. Well, it appears after hours of searching and tweaking and messing and collaborating. It’s a giant time suck. I know because we started doing that kind of stuff this year.

So why do I do this job? Well, it is creative and requires most of my brain. I don’t like to be bored at work. It’s also cool when kids get stuff, like holy moley, so that’s what a heart looks like. And they can see the muscle. And middle-school kids can be funny and loving and all that. But it is an incredibly stressful and demanding job, like no other job I’ve had, and sometimes I just need to talk about it. That’s always been an issue with non-teachers. There’s a difference between complaining and venting. I vent and it’s out. I don’t have to think about it any more. Frustration released. Moving on to the next daily challenge.

Maybe that’s why I’m still in counseling. Because I just need someone who listens and lets me get it out without taking it on themselves. You can’t fix my students. You can’t fix my school (and next year, based on the plan we’ve heard about, is gonna be hell on wheels with no teams). You can’t fix what’s wrong with public schools. Seriously. It’s unfixable as long as parents don’t care and politicians are involved. Or parents care too much and are ignorant of how a school or classroom actually run, and politicians are involved. I can handle my job…most days…I just need someone to say uh huh, that sucks, have a hug. Or a glass of wine. Or both.

My joy in life doesn’t come from my job. It comes from my art. And I wish I could make more of it.

Today I’m running a lab that requires 17 towels. That should be interesting. Labs are exhausting, especially with water or chemicals or dissectable things, but the kids get a lot out of this one, so I do it. I’m still trying to prep for next week’s project, so I’m a little behind. Hoping to get caught up by the end of the weekend. Might not be socializing much between grading and that. Ugh.

All this is why I make so much art, people. The job sucks my brain out and spits it on the ground. The rest of life is somewhat stressful and often lonely. Art makes it all OK. It’s my superpower. Certainly doing taxes and financial aid apps and going to the store and cleaning out the litter tray and trying to analyze the tire pressure light in my car all just make me crazy. I need something to tip the balance in the other direction.

I was interviewed for San Diego CityBeat. You can see the article here. I think he did a good job of capturing me and my art. And he didn’t mention my grandmother’s quilts, so that’s a win.