two hundred children?

Today at nine we met with eighteen young people in the Mt. Zion Church and their very fine counselors. They are some the young people who live in walking distance and will be served by the Marsha Barbour center. They embraced this new way of drawing (blind contour, not looking at the paper, looking only at your subject, really looking, without looking away) and were then led to paint self-portraits with india ink and acrylic. Blue, yellow and red, pink and brown faces appeared on the pages, sophisticated and gentle. How often does our artwork come from such an open place?

At eleven thirty I cross the street to our home and studio, future site of the Marsha Barbour Community Center and prepare for the ninety children expected from the boys and girls club. I share Selavi with them. (more about this). We make ninety small folded paper books, with books ranging from "what to do when i don't have friends", "my life" and "If i were desperate what would i do."I let them take the unfinished books with them, and hope to see them again at the art show, it will take some doing as this is a side project, and we have plenty to do with our scheduled work and collective volunteering. We finish at one and by two we are on the road to meet up with The East Hancock Elementary school YMCA group. These are the forty one young people we have been painting and drawing with most days. Today is drawing and painting at the beach. (more to say here too). That group is scheduled from three until five most days. By six they have cleaned up and pulled out of the parking lot, we walk into the muddy water, which we see others jumping and playing in. Later we learn that the water also holds the bodies of many dead. I don't know how else to say that.

By eight thirty we are back at the house preparing materials for Thursday, we will take our Mt. Zion group to the beach tomorrow in the morning and have been invited for an afternoon visit to New Orleans, just sixty four miles away.

Too many entries have become sleep. Our days involve a great deal of the secret and physical preparation for the magic show which is moments of clarity in a painters life. My colleagues, sometimes look at me with surprise when I struggle to articulate my appreciation. Doing more than I can is not option. I am overwhelmed as usual by the welcoming, the wisdom, and the gentle teaching in all with whom I interact. The uniqueness of this community seems to be an extreme self-awareness and tenderness. There is a genuine intergenerational respect which this whole nation can benefit from knowing.

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