A Room of One's Own

Painted by Kimberly Culotta

"There was a star riding through clouds one night, and I said to the star, 'Consume me'."
— Virginia Woolf 




This summer while Mudi was at an art class in Pasadena, I spent some afternoons at the Pasadena Waldorf School with Mirth not for any reason, but to take it in while the children weren't there, after all, I have become once again consumed by early childhood.

I snapped this with my phone on the walkway to a classroom literally moments after I was wondering...

We sat under glorious trees that never ended.   We spoke with John  who was sanding and renewing  children's desks.  He offered some leads on where to find logs for my classes.  His wife teaches string music at the school, and he's just lending a hand.

We  eavesdropped on childless classrooms that were imbued with a rich amber hue, and still had nature tables out offering imagination itself a place to play. 

Upon arrival one day, we visited the Wishing Well, and I was delighted with all of the handcrafted mobiles.  I  shared with Kaki, the store mom, that I already felt Mudi's room was too filled for another mobile even though...  Kaki offered a thought: how about changing the child's room to reflect the season, and what the child is processing at the moment?

What an obvious idea, and though I am pretty well-studied, it never occurred to me before.  So, shortly after that discussion, I took down half of the room, and left up that which reflected "summer" and turning seven.

An Octopus' Garden created by: Mudi at Create

Thanks to those visits to a childless Waldorf school in the heart of summer, I am inspired and rightly permitted to continue to (co)create the room that never ends.

Of course, the angel hanging over Mirth's changing table is a doll for all seasons.