Kim: Everything I touch lately falls apart. The tickets were never used, and last night was one of the worst in recent memory. God, give me a windmill, give me something to fight. 1 day ago / 0 notes
Kim: My Elevated Envelopes. Inside I included packets of wildflower seeds to celebrate the end of winter. 1 week ago / 0 notes
Kim: The dust on this old stereo tells you how long it’s been hanging around. It kept me company in the purple room where I checked running heads and footnote callouts and then it kept me company in my classrooms, all four of them. One day a pair of freshman boys came in with these little slips of paper. They tagged a few items in the classroom, taught us the pronunciations, laughed at me good naturedly when I butchered them. Next week, the stereo goes on to its great reward, and it carries both names on the journey. 2 weeks ago / 0 notes
Kim: Elevated Envelopes are starting to show up in my mailbox. Today’s came with a matching ATC from Karen in Massachusetts, along with a letter explaining her artistic process. Her talent blew me away more than a little. Since I was frustrated with my own efforts for two whole months—and I still don’t know if they’ll arrive at their destinations in one piece—I’m humbled and thrilled by generous creativity from the other participants in my group. Also: “not playing with a full deck” is something I should have emblazoned on a t-shirt. 3 weeks ago / 3 notes
Kim: My carefully planned Elevated Envelope design fell apart so dramatically that I gave it up to be retooled for another round. That leaves me four days to design a dozen alternatives. This weekend will be spent with nine-bean soup, crusty bread, black tea, lots of scratch paper, and my Pitt pens. Wish me luck. 4 weeks ago / 1 notes
Kim: Paper flowers. Lately I am grateful beyond belief for the part of my mind that finds beauty in disorder and fragmentation. 1 month ago / 1 notes
Kim: I am not drawn to most poetry, but Adrienne Rich is a special case for me. Her work sends me back to a classroom in Robinson Hall, to the contralto of a professor who knew how to read poetry aloud without sounding self-important and affected, to the almost alarming lack of sentiment in the poems themselves. This week, I’m sharing a photo of my ancient copy of Diving into the Wreck, and I’m hoping you’ll leave here to read Deb Rox’s beautiful blog post about Rich’s poetry and how it impacted Deb’s life. Go back so far there is another languagego back far enough the languageis no longer personalthese scars bear witnessbut whether to repairor to destructionI no longer know—Adrienne Rich, “Meditations for a Savage Child: II” 1 month ago / 1 notes
Kim: So much cause for celebration lately. Cold, gorgeous celebration served in straight-from-the-freezer glasses. 1 month ago / 0 notes
A little calligraphy sunshine for the start of spring. Find it at releafpaper.etsy.com. (Heather’s post) 1 month ago / 0 notes
Kim: Poking my head into this deep old desk after a week off… this ticket to dream came from MyMissiveAttack. What Lisa didn’t know is that I had been reading The Night Circus at the time, so it was almost like the book bled into real life for a moment. Thanks, Lisa. It was perfect. 2 months ago / 3 notes
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thedeepolddesk
the deep old desk
weekly photos from Heather and Kim
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