Day 34: Forgiveness

For my college degree, I had to take Studio Art classes. My Life Drawing professor gave us explicit instructions to never throw failed art works away. “Even if it’s terrible. Even if it’s experimental, and failed horribly. I need to see all of your work. I’ll be kind,” she said.

Of course, I didn’t do what she asked.

Self-portrait, in the garbage. Awful action pose using cross-hatching, tossed away.

For some reason, words work differently. I don’t throw away what doesn’t work, or what’s been abandoned, or what’s been crossed out in confusion. It’s easier, with words, to be kind.

Day 1: Reacquainted

My first task is to find out what one hundred words looks like. My fingers are awkward on the keys. I’m backspacing, misspelling, because the home row is not my home anymore.

That’s a nice start. About three sentences for the first paragraph makes thirty-two words. That means three paragraphs of about that size would make one hundred words. A beginning, a middle, and an end.

I’ve just figured out what this project is about. It’s about getting reacquainted. Familiar with my computer and its sounds, it’s texture, its temperature, its weight on my lap. And also, reacquainted with me.