Welcome! We are sisters who share pretty much everything...including this Blog.

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Confessions

Confession #1: I am not writing this after my second cup of coffee. I haven’t even had my first cup of coffee. So, as a self-proclaimed caffeine addict I confess that what follows may not be the result of coffee brilliance, but rather first mumbles of the morning with a modest cup of ginger tea.

Confession #2: I am an English teacher. And, I am a horrible speller. I just wanted to get that out of the way. Many people assume that great spelling comes with the territory. They are wrong. I grew up on the era of spell check. Most of what I composed after the 6th grade was on a word processor, and during that significant year in many people’s lives (lets say 1992) when computers graced the homes of middle class families, I soon learned about my spelling deficiency with the overwhelming appearance of red squiggly lines. Microsoft Word, in its infancy, brought this to my attention, in a moment of quite embarrassment, those awkward moments that occur all too often for adolescents. Soon afterword, I decided to not let anyone know about this deficiency, and the brilliance of spell check is that my cover-up actually worked! For nearly 20 years I haven’t let a red squiggly line appear on my screen for more than a few seconds. And, if that isn’t enough, I avidly edit so my readers will not catch onto my secret.

I’ve recently decided, however, that I’ve carried around this dirty little secret for far too long and that it’s time to come clean, mostly for the sake of my students. This is partly, I’ll admit, because as a teacher I’m far too exposed. I write on the chalk-board on a daily basis, often taking notes based on classroom discussion. Unplanned, un-word-processor-spell-checked words come flying at me and I’m expected to spell all these words correctly (and write nicely too)—it’s too much! I can’t handle the pressure! So, I’ve leaked my secret to a few classes, always hoping I don’t loose my stereotypical librarian looking English teacher respect. Yet, as a result of my confession, I’ve realized that by exposing my spelling weakness, they are able to accept themselves a bit more easily (and befriend me in the process). You see, these 18-year-old technology-saturated students are often terrified of the English language—its rules, conventions, when to put a comma where, when to use whom rather than who and vise versa. They assume I, on their other hand, their librarian looking English teacher, hold all of this knowledge over their heads with an oppressive force as if I know everything and they know nothing. So my confession, you see, is transcendent in the way that the great pedagogical philosopher, Paulo Freire, intended. It’s a win-win. I’m creating a post-structuralist, student-centered classroom, and at the same time as I’m coming clean with myself! So, today, I extend my secret to the second cup of coffee readership and say it with confidence—I am an English teacher, and I am a horrible speller!

Confession #3: I considered NOT spell-checking this blog entry to illustrate just how horrible my spelling really is. I confess, however, that I am not that brave yet. Give me time.


Yours,

Jamie

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Dress-up with Jamie


I came across these photos the other day and they made me smile so I thought I would share. If you have not already guessed, the captivating reflection is of Jamie. I believe my intent at the time was to capture a visual story that would further explain this particular mirror collection, Words in Mirror. What makes me laugh is I continue, to this day, play dress-up with Jamie and make her model for whatever creative project I happen to be completely immersed in. Thanks Jamie for being such a great sport!

-Jessie

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Mood Board

Alright! Here it is folks...the mood board (aka inspiration board) for the much anticipated Stock/Joseph wedding at the San Francisco Theological Seminary in San Anselmo this August.

Watercolor Prints and Patterns




Just finished the watercolor paintings that will be used for Jamie and Benny's wedding invitations!

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Confetti

This colored pencil drawing is a work in progress (I believe I may have started it two years ago). Each quarter size ball takes me FOREVER! I hate having unfinished work but this one I am curious as to whether or not I will finish. If nothing else it gives me an idea for a mosaic collage piece.

Friday, March 4, 2011

Happy Birthday Grandma

I never remember birthdays. I am awful at remembering dates, or paying attention to what the day's date is, therefore routinely and absentmindedly missing my friends and family's special days. However, for some reason I never forgot my Grandma's birthday on March 4th. A date that will forever have a special place in my heart. Margaret Stock would have turned 90 today (I think...I am really bad at remembering age as well). She is missed.

My Grandma is someone I wish the whole world could have known. Wise, witty, calm, creative, loving and gentle. Her soul radiated beauty of every kind. Every word that came out of her mouth had meaning. Among all the chatty alphas in my family (sometimes talking over one another just to be the one who beats everyone else to the punch line) she would sit and listen and observe. But when she would speak, the room would go quite and we would all hang on to every word. Of all the chatter and laughter of my past it is her words I remember most clearly.

The last conversation I had with Grandma, we were at a family holiday party. I was sitting next to her both of us in silence (the room we were in, however, was quite lively), simply being in one another's presence was enough. She then turned to me and said, "Are you happy?" Now, I have been asked this question before but never had I felt that particular question provoke so much emotion, every bone in my body exposed. The fact that I was not able to reply right away with a YES forced me to ask myself, "Am I happy?" A question we all too often avoid asking ourselves perhaps because we are afraid of what our answer may be. I am not even sure I answered her. I had to excuse myself in that moment, I thought I was going to break down in tears. A question I had obviously been avoiding asking myself.

She left me with probably the most powerful questions one can ask oneself, "Am I happy?". For that, I am eternally grateful. And if she were sitting next to me in this very moment and asked me again, "Are you happy?" This time I could joyously respond, YES! And this I know would bring her great joy.

Above is a mosaic collage I did of her a few years ago. It hangs in my dinning room. I feel her presence every time I look at it, reminding me she will always be with me. She is with all of us who loved her, everyday.

Watercolor Sketches


A few more sketches for Jamie and Benny's wedding invitations. The final product will be 4 different patterns in watercolor.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

The Second Cup of Coffee

The first cup of coffee that I drink in the morning is mundane. Valued and loved nonetheless, a happy ritual that if abandoned would undoubtedly end up in heartbreak, but certainly nothing that I would call special. It is a means to an end, that is, to wake up. The second cup, on the other hand, slyly enters the realm of rebellious and reckless indulgence. At times it becomes a magical potion that if taken wisely with a small nibble to avoid the jitters, allows one to see the world as brilliantly perfect, beautiful, a kaleidoscope of wonder for my caffeinated observation. With such affects its little wonder that one does not partake in second coffees everyday. Who wouldn’t want to feel endlessly inspired? But, like all things in life, this gem of a treat has its drawbacks. And, once again, we are reminded that what comes up, must come down, we must face the realities of our lives and pay tribute to the dark corners that are also in the room. That harsh reality might reveal itself emotionally in the form of self-scrutiny, doubt, fear following moments of brilliance, or perhaps it takes on more of a physical reminder that acidity and caffeine are not always tender on weak stomachs. Point is, the second cup of coffee is brilliantly magical and also a devastating reminder of reality and our limitations as mortals. (If I were immortal I’d drink coffee all day long!)

Such is the frequent dilemma that I often share with my sister, Jessie. We have a mutual understanding of the concept behind the second cup of coffee without even having to articulate it. We yearn for “seconds” but are also keenly aware of the sometimes-negative affects, so when we finally find occasions that lend themselves for more coffee we regard it as special. Take Paris, for example. While most American tourists felt justified in eating three chocolate croissants a day, my gluten-free sister and I chose coffee…. strong coffee. We thought, do like the French Philosophers. And, closer to home, during the winter of ’06 in San Francisco, when non-stop rain greeted us nearly everyday, that second cup was just enough to lift our spirits from our non-threatening seasonal depression.

We pay tribute to that second cup of coffee, and all its complexity, through the writing and images of this blog. We hope to share the world as we see it, sometimes caffeinated, sometimes realistic, but always a beautiful reminder of our existence.

Sketchbook







I am currently working on Jamie and Benny's wedding invites. These are a few of the ink sketches. The watercolor sketches are to come!