...kati's back from a wedding
...spark overslept again and missed TIC!
...maya's baseball website rox
...X-Men again, after class, this time with Angel and the Hunter boys
...Quad visits TIC
...the football gets stuck in an oak tree
...littlehunter brings in gramma's ginger snaps mmmmmmm
...Sesh jumpstarts cascading style sheets on his site
...this weblog crax the Top 100 Most Read!
...today's pix to come later tonight
...Friday's pix can be seen here

almost midnight...
a prose poem for, and about, my students

today feels like April in Maui for me... knowing that my time there is coming to a close and i return to the Bay Area in May... days running out like the proverbial sand through fingers.

i feel the anguish in some of the kids, for whom attachments made with others are as powerful as anything. and it's anguish because TIC/AIC will soon be over, and since it's ATDP and everyone lives far away from everyone else, the summer will become a fond and keening memory, the friendships made and the moments gained but a blush on a peach. but it doesn't have to be that way, you know. yes, "you," dear one.

... i read Tom's poetic paean to capitalism ... revel in Kass' lovesong (yes, C that is exactly what it is, and don't go denying it now) to the glories of finding and making friendships on the Net ... roam through Trev's beautifully constructed weblog on which he writes about his students (no link here folks, since by necessity his reports are confidential) ...

and i too, am filled with anguish. it's not a 'parting' sort of anguish, since i know i'll still be seeing them (and just about everyone else) online, but to not be able to see the tall guy speak his mind, the girl with the straight obsidian hair smile enigmatically, the boy with the green eyes meet mine... is a kind of loss. when i see them again, they'll have grown older. wiser. perhaps world-wearier. definitely lovelier. and it'll be different. some things will stay the same, i know, but it will be different.

so i take these remaining days and hold on to them as if they were jewels in the lotus. every breath possessed, every glance memorialized.

he cannot speak his heart, even to me, as the thing he is feeling is so new, and so sharp. she asks me questions she knows i cannot answer, but hugs me warmly in understanding nevertheless, in the middle of class...

it was always, and ever, about that.

{ net.casting }
^