Violet Faces

Sometimes, like earlier this afternoon, Violet can drive me crazy. She was barking to get let outside every ten minutes, and then barking three minutes after I let her out, asking to come back inside. And then sometimes when I open the door for her, she just stares at me and won't walk in. Sometimes she'll come in after a minute, I graciously bow to her in and usher her in while saying something silly like, "Yes, come in! Welcome puppy, please enter your abode!" Today, after being such an annoying pill and yapping so she could be let inside yet again, she had the gall to lie down and just stare at me, without moving a muscle, when I opened the door for her.

She probably just wanted a friend to come out and enjoy the sunshine with her. But I was getting plenty of sunshine myself, as I kept going outside to get her away from barking at Maddie (the neighbor's dog on the other side of the fence). But despite getting annoyed, she is a Snuggle Face and we have lots of fun with her. She gives us the cutest Dickensian eyes during dinner time, so that we will take pity on her and give her scraps of food. She never begs for food by barking or pawing at us, she just s-t-a-r-e-s into our eyes for a l-o-n-g time. I usually say something like "Please sir, can I have some more?" or "Penny for the baby, sir!" (from "Scrooge") when I see her pinpointed, constant gaze. This is what we see when we look under the dinner table during mealtimes:

So even though she can be annoying, she is very cute and we love her. And I'm glad that she mostly just likes to snuggle with us on the couch. She is a fun friend to have while I sit on the loveseat and grade student submissions. Lately she has been perching on the back of the couch cushions, too:

February Anemone

 My MIL gave me some anemone corms for my birthday last year. I soaked them in water to activate them and then planted them soon after, but nothing grew. And then, just a few days ago, I noticed this February flower had popped up in the garden, even beating out the daffodils whose closed buds are just starting to swell:

We are supposed to have below-freezing temperatures this week with a chance of snow, so I'm not sure if this beautiful flower is going to survive. It was nice to pretend for a few days that spring was on its way, even though it isn't. This flower has given me hope that the winter will end, though. And I'm also hopeful that some of these other anemone corms will wake up, too!

A More Balanced Routine and Virtual Distance Challenges

Things have been more manageable for me, work-wise, since the quarter started and I submitted my CAA video presentation. I've been able to relax more in the evenings, and I'm so grateful for the work that I did during December that has enabled me to shift my focus elsewhere this quarter.

I still don't feel like I have a perfect balance in managing my time, but things are better. I usually wake up in time to eat breakfast and get the Lucy ready for school (Sam gets himself ready just fine, but I usually do have to come down and get him started.) If I don't teach that day, then I stay in pajamas and grade/prep for the two hours that Lucy is in class. I change into exercise clothes when the kids finish their morning classes, and we try take Violet for a walk during the lunch break. In the afternoon, I help Lucy with her schoolwork and play with her for a bit, and I work in some time to exercise. I'm usually showering at 3:00 or 4:00 in the afternoon, but it doesn't really matter since we aren't going anywhere beyond the our neighborhood streets, the grocery store or to pick up our library books at the "holds" table at the library's front door.

Since I'm not overwhelmed with work for the first time in several months, I've had more chances to read books and I've also set my sights on some other goals. I discovered The Conqueror virtual distance challenges, and these have been a good way for me to fight cabin fever (through exercise) and feel like I'm getting to "travel" despite the pandemic. I've been using these challenges to set goals for exercising and running. The challenges cover routes around the world, and you can use Google Street View in the app to see what it looks like on the route. I completed the Giza Pyramids challenge last month (46 miles in about 10 days), and right now I'm going the Hadrian's Wall challenge (I'll do 90 miles of running for the month of February) and the English Channel challenge (21 miles in about three months, using the rowing machine to cover 1-2 miles per week). I may to the 480 miles of the Camino de Santiago by biking.

The Giza Pyramids challenge was fun to complete and I liked "visiting" the Djoser necropolis as well as the one at Giza. I learned some new things from the virtual postcards, too! My Giza Pyramids medal came in the mail, and I was delighted to find that the winged scarab opens up to reveal a small scarab pendant inside. I translated the back of the pendant and discovered that it says, "Well done." I love that they made the pendant meaningful and that there is something small I can wear on a regular basis. On the back is a relief of the crocodile god Sobek, which is copied from a relief at Kom Ombo.

I hope to be able to complete the 26.2 mile Inca Trail challenge later this spring, and run my own personal marathon. I hope my legs and knees will be up for the challenge! I've been building up my mileage each week, and I've really loved the runs along Lake Washington. Yesterday, it was so beautiful at Coulon that I kept stopping to take pictures. The textures of the water varied from glassy smooth to frenzied ripples. There were lots of varied colors too, since the sun went behind the gray clouds just far enough to have everything outlined in light. It felt wonderfully motivating to run - feeling my physical body at its most "alive" state with my heart pumping - with such a view. I like I was an active participant in nature, and felt in harmony with the beauty that I saw around me.

The Hill We Climb

 I was really moved by Amanda Gorman's recitation of her poem "The Hill We Climb" at the inauguration. Having just listened to "I Have a Dream" earlier this week on MLK Day, I could see references to his speech in this poem as well as the musical "Hamilton" ("history has its eyes on us"). Here is an article that lists a few of the influential writers and orators who are referenced in Gorman's poem. Her recitation was very engaging, so I'm including a video to remember it. I'm also including the poem text below: 

The Hill We Climb

When day comes we ask ourselves,
where can we find light in this never-ending shade?
The loss we carry,
a sea we must wade
We've braved the belly of the beast
We've learned that quiet isn't always peace
And the norms and notions
of what just is
Isn’t always just-ice
And yet the dawn is ours
before we knew it
Somehow we do it
Somehow we've weathered and witnessed
a nation that isn’t broken
but simply unfinished
We the successors of a country and a time
Where a skinny Black girl
descended from slaves and raised by a single mother
can dream of becoming president
only to find herself reciting for one
And yes we are far from polished
far from pristine
but that doesn’t mean we are
striving to form a union that is perfect
We are striving to forge a union with purpose
To compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and
conditions of man
And so we lift our gazes not to what stands between us
but what stands before us
We close the divide because we know, to put our future first,
we must first put our differences aside
We lay down our arms
so we can reach out our arms
to one another
We seek harm to none and harmony for all
Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true:
That even as we grieved, we grew
That even as we hurt, we hoped
That even as we tired, we tried
That we’ll forever be tied together, victorious
Not because we will never again know defeat
but because we will never again sow division
Scripture tells us to envision
that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree
And no one shall make them afraid
If we’re to live up to our own time
Then victory won’t lie in the blade
But in all the bridges we’ve made
That is the promised glade
The hill we climb
If only we dare
It's because being American is more than a pride we inherit,
it’s the past we step into
and how we repair it
We’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation
rather than share it
Would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy
And this effort very nearly succeeded
But while democracy can be periodically delayed
it can never be permanently defeated
In this truth
in this faith we trust
For while we have our eyes on the future
history has its eyes on us
This is the era of just redemption
We feared at its inception
We did not feel prepared to be the heirs
of such a terrifying hour
but within it we found the power
to author a new chapter
To offer hope and laughter to ourselves
So while once we asked,
how could we possibly prevail over catastrophe?
Now we assert
How could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?
We will not march back to what was
but move to what shall be
A country that is bruised but whole,
benevolent but bold,
fierce and free
We will not be turned around
or interrupted by intimidation
because we know our inaction and inertia
will be the inheritance of the next generation
Our blunders become their burdens
But one thing is certain:
If we merge mercy with might,
and might with right,
then love becomes our legacy
and change our children’s birthright
So let us leave behind a country
better than the one we were left with
Every breath from my bronze-pounded chest,
we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one
We will rise from the gold-limbed hills of the west,
we will rise from the windswept northeast
where our forefathers first realized revolution
We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the midwestern states,
we will rise from the sunbaked south
We will rebuild, reconcile and recover
and every known nook of our nation and
every corner called our country,
our people diverse and beautiful will emerge,
battered and beautiful
When day comes we step out of the shade,
aflame and unafraid
The new dawn blooms as we free it
For there is always light,
if only we’re brave enough to see it
If only we’re brave enough to be it

Tangible, Concrete Covid Reactions

This week one of my very best friends, R, is burying her father. R's dad died on Sunday due to complications from Covid. The illness was swift. He caught Covid, was hospitalized, and died within roughly two or three weeks. My poor friend has been in shock, especially since she believed that "statistically" he would be able to rally and survive. I admire how she is keeping her eye on positivity, and looking for strength in the love she feels within her family, including her love for her dad. She is a much better person than me and I hope her grieving process is not as complicated as mine was with my mom's passing.

R's dad was just a few months older than my father-in-law. R's dad did have some health concerns, although he was well enough to go golfing on a regular basis and was preparing to go on a fishing trip. His death has made me think more about my own family members, and I'm grateful for the precautions that we have been taking this year to make sure my in-laws are safe.

Although I never knew R's dad, I am grieving to see my dear friend grieving. And this death has made me reflect more on Covid, but in a personal way that is less abstract. Although we have dutifully stayed home for the past nine (almost ten) months, and that confinement has felt very real, the actions that we have done have also seemed difficult to pinpoint as productive, since we haven't had people in our local circle catch Covid, let alone die. But maybe that's the point: perhaps people have been healthy because we have kept our distance. My disciplined approach to staying at home has been for this very reason: to protect the vulnerable, including my in-laws.

However, this death has hit home in a new way because it is concrete. It is something that will forever impact the life of my friend, her family, and her children. My mind is still wrapping around thinking about Covid in this tangible way that connects to someone I know and love. Just last night, I mindlessly made a passing comment to R and C about the virus in a trivial tone, which I immediately regretted. I apologized for being so thoughtless given the context of what R is experiencing, and I've been thinking about that incident since it happened. There really is nothing to joke about with this virus, beyond perhaps the day-to-day absurdities that result from spending so much time at home. This virus not only is a physical threat, but it threatens our emotions, our economies, our livelihoods, and our relationships with others.

And, given this new personal perspective on the virus, I hope to continue to think about this pandemic in an even more purposeful and conscientious way. I haven't been dismissive of the pandemic in my actions and, for the most part, not in my words. But I can see first-hand how comments that downplay the severity of the virus (along the lines of "I'll take my chances" or "it's not that bad") dismiss the experience of others who are suffering or grieving a loved one. And I think it's important to be especially careful in what we say and express, because with the rising death toll, there is a chance that you are addressing someone who is grieving or suffering in some way.

Bio for the WMS

 I have been voted in as a new board member for the William Morris Society in the United States, and my responsibilities will truly start up in about February. I'm humbled and surprised that I would be invited to join the board, especially since I don't consider myself any type of expert in William Morris at all. But I am a fan of his work, so if that is the only true marker for membership (or board participation), then I'm glad to belong. The people I have met have been very warm and welcoming, and I hope this is a place where I can learn and make contributions to a community.

As an incoming board member, I was asked to write a bio for the upcoming newsletter. This is what I wrote:

While I’m certain that I will never achieve as much as William Morris completed during his lifetime, I feel a kinship with him in that we both abhor “a disease called idleness” that is mentioned in News from Nowhere. I am a person who likes to be busy. Much of my time is spent teaching art history courses at Seattle University or engaged elsewhere in the community. In the pre-pandemic days, I sang in the chorale of the Seattle Symphony and I volunteered as the Permanent Collection Training Chair for docents at the Seattle Art Museum. I look forward to being able to fully participate in those activities again. Lately, in these quieter moments at home, I find meaningful work in writing projects, helping my daughter decorate her dollhouse, stitching up rips in doll clothes, and teaching my son how to play the piano. On the sunnier days in Seattle, I spend time gardening in my flower bed and studying the birds that fly into my yard. The more I learn about William Morris, I feel like he would appreciate and understand the ways that I choose to spend my time.

Due to my mother’s niche interest in interior design, I grew up in a house in which every room was decorated with wallpaper that evoked popular styles of the 18th and 19th centuries. When I was in college, my mother introduced me to the Pre-Raphaelites, specifically William Holman Hunt. My curiosity was piqued, and I spent some time studying the Pre-Raphaelites, their broader circle, and Victorian art as part of my undergraduate studies in art history. I have continued to do so since that point, as a way to feel connected with my mom after she passed away. But, like William Morris, I have focused my attention and energy on several areas of art and world history. My graduate work in art history focused on colonialism and representations of art that involved political statements against African slavery and racism.

In recent years, my interest in the paintings of Kehinde Wiley have connected my interests in politics, race, and Victorian art. As a contemporary painter, Wiley creates monumental portraits of Black figures who are juxtaposed against decorative backgrounds that often are inspired by the Morrisian designs. These paintings are intended to raise awareness of the inequality and inequity that Black people have experienced; Wiley chooses portraiture as a starting point since historically Black people have not been celebrated as primary figures in Western portraits. I am drawn to Wiley’s paintings because he adopts European compositions and expensive Arts & Crafts wallpaper designs for his paintings, which are relatable to me given my own background and studies. My hope is that these relatable elements also help me, as a White woman, to better understand Wiley’s statements about what the Black experience is like.

It is through my writings on Kehinde Wiley that I became familiar with the William Morris Society in the United States back in 2018. And since becoming associated with this group, I feel like this is a place where I am meant to be! I’m currently interested in exploring William Morris’s artistic production and political ideologies, as well as those of May Morris, within the 19th-century framework of class, race, and the suffrage movement.

2020 Reflection and 2021 Goals

 I realized this afternoon that I never made a true goal or resolution for 2020, beyond the goal to use up the hoard of NuSkin facial products that I amassed when I used to work there. I guess the lack of a real goal is for the best, because the pandemic through our lives into survival mode. I am proud of the things that I did accomplish, though, including:

• I taught eight classes during 2020, not to mention helping to teach my kids at home from March until the end of the year. All of the university courses I taught had some type of distance learning or online component. The one class that actually was in a physical classroom (ART 103 in Winter quarter) still was taught as a hybrid.
• In the Winter 2020 quarter I created and taught a course on American art (while simultaneously learning the material one step ahead of my students, since I never took a class on American art when I was an undergrad). I also had to learn how to teach in a Distance Learning format, in which I was in a classroom in Sammamish but my lecture was broadcast to a classroom in Ellensburg. There were some challenges getting students to engage in this format, but it helped to prep me for synchronous Zoom teaching in the Spring quarter.
• I created and taught a course on Gender, Sexuality, and Identity in Renaissance and Baroque Art during Spring 2020. I had a basic idea of the things that I wanted to cover, but I still was learning and developing the course one step ahead of my students), as well as converting to the course into an online format. I learned a lot while teaching this class, especially from my LGBTQ students, and I was grateful for the opportunities to think more about inclusion, equality, and equity. 
• I feel like I am learning more about how to be a better professor, not only in connecting my course material to topics that are relevant, but also in how to give empathy when needed. George Floyd was killed near the end of the quarter, which ended up impacting me directly because one of my students at the time was related to Floyd and needed to travel home. The subsequent protests generated dialogue with my students that helped me reflect on how to best teach and meet the needs of my students.
• Hiking the Snoqualmie 7 Summits with Carrie and Rachael was the other great highlight of this year for me. I'm grateful for friends who want to go on hiking adventures and readily take on challenges that require effort.

In thinking about 2021, it's difficult to even think about what goals might be realistic. I've been writing a paper on William Morris (to present at CAA later this winter) and I'm so impressed with all of the things that William Morris was able accomplish in his life. I want to make better use of my time, so that I can have more time to be outdoors, as well as read and write things that are meaningful and inspirational to me. So here is how I will create more time to do those things:

• When I am home (which is pretty much all the time), I'll keep my phone upstairs on my nightstand unless I am expecting a call/text
• Check social media only once or twice per week
• Check the news only once per day (and as the pandemic dies down, I might be able to switch to 2-3 times per week)
• Read a book if I wake up early and don't want to get out of bed
• Write on this blog at least once per month
• Write on AW at least once per month