lately

It is funny that we try to make sense of this life. I have learned that this understanding might not ever be possible.

(This summer I decided I will continue to live in Idaho. For... a while. I don't know how long. I was given the great gift of attempting to teach art at Liberty Charter School, my alma mater. We will go on a nice autumn break in three days following conferences, having completed 8.5 weeks. I feel challenged but overwhelmingly blessed to be learning in the environment I am, with the support I have.)

Most importantly, my life changed August 2 when my dear friend, Kris Jensen passed in a car accident. There is no way to explain loss as I am learning, but what I can explain are the reasons why I easily, without trying, love this beautiful friend.




Kris loves unconditionally.
From conversations with her and from watching her daily service of - running over at the last minute, loaning her precious vaccuum, stopping to split a meal, cleaning others' messes, listening to a long story, defending a student, or always putting herself last - I know she learned how to be this selfless by following our God. I also know that He gave Kris the natural ability and desire to live for others, it was just in her small, long bones.



Kris serves in this way with a contagious laugh, with beautiful eyes that laughed just as much, and the famous "crow" that would sneak out every know and then out of shock.



Kris enjoys every small joy. She and her family often say "It's good to be Kris" Boy is it. A cold Pepsi with the perfect ammount of ice, chocolate covered cinnamon bears, pollo rey and chapalas, and a routine Sunday dinner does Kris' soul good, but especially because she enjoys these treats with people she loves around the table. A dirty house excites Kris, all the more fun to clean well!



A couple years ago, Kris asked me to join her at 4:45am to drive to Boise to sit outside of the Record Exchange to buy Modest Mouse tickets that went on sale at 10am. Why wouldn't we?! Only seven people were able to buy tickets at this location and we were first in line. Kris is smart and more than willing to work for things she wants.

When I was in early high school Kris invited me to be her friend and a part of her family. What a gift! This gift will continue to influence who I am and the way I attempt to live. From Kris and her husband and five kids and extended family I learned the possibilities of how a family can choose to love daily. Kris doesn't sugar coat anything. Family and living isn't easy, but it's simple. Kris loves her family with all of her and her life was lived for them. I decided those first months of spending time with Kris and her family that I wanted to have a large family. Sure more to deal with, but more character, more love. Her love is so clear.

Kris was dancing with me on my first night of really dancing. She invited me to a house show at her son Jeremy's house, where he and also his brother Elijah and sister Rachael would be playing. Honestly dancing held a different definiton after that night. It is free. and funny. and free. and so much fun. Every show after this, at some point Kris would ask me, or sometimes just have to look over with her smile, or sometimes pull me out of my seat, to go dance. Even if there wasn't a floor. We were loving and feeling the music and wanted to express that and join the band in the fun. This dancing and experiencing joy with Kris while dancing will forever influence my happiness in a moment. Because of her I try to be present and just do what I am itching to do or say what I need to say.

This summer I would get a couple calls a week, sometimes at 9 or 10 saying, "Elijah is playing at the VAC, let's go!" or "Spondee (Noah's band) is playing at Flying M, you have to come!" or "I know I ask too much, but Jer is playing tomorrow night, will you come?" Kris supports her children and anyone she loves and wants to share that with everyone.

Oh I love her.



I am so blessed to see her most loved family almost every day, she would absolutely love the way her family has come together even more. She is missing out on her favorite kind of parties.

I have learned over and over just how far Kris' love and influence reached. So very far. What I know is that I didn't deserve her love, belief in me, trust, companionship, laughs, the splitting of enchiladas - but I received it. The honest gift of Kris I felt over and over and feel today. I can feel it. Which makes me not want to accept that my memories stop here. But I am also sure that a few weeks ago now, Kris would say, "Kylee, quit your boobin'. You have to enjoy all of this for me now!" She would not stand for me stopping. So that's what we are all trying to do.

I can't believe that I get to carry parts of Kris with me and am able to choose daily to deal with situations like she would.

My boss likes to say, "It will take at least a year to figure out all that Kris really did" She went completely beyond her job description and enabled our school to run. So on community service day with the high school last week I started walking with dread and complaining in my head that I was in charge of scrubbing the bottom of the dumpsters with a few pleased students. Before I could finish my really good, justified complaining to myself, I thought of the smile and honest excitement with which Kris would clean those dumpsters. Thank you Kris.

I don't get any of this.
But I thank God for my friend and her love and her life.

1 year and 1 day ago

Was the reception of my installation show "Home blank Home".I wanted to create a piece my senior year of undergrad to invite viewers to think about what home is or should be. Two contrasting doors stood at the entrance of the gallery, inviting viewers inside the idea of a home. Half of the walls were unfinished, raw pieces of plywood, the other half were clean and polished. Both held common household objects drawn in 2D on the walls. The only physical pieces inside the installed walls were a chandelier composed of friends' definitions of home, a designed and constructed table and borrowed chairs around that table, all in the center of the room.

Here are some images of the project's progression.


the beginning. My generous, generous friends the Renschlers helped tremendously. I set up shop in their shop for a couple months. Brad, a skilled framer, contributed his skills in the building of the walls that were to be installed in the gallery. I chose to work on seperate walls to allow for time and trial and error. The turn around in the galleries is quite fast, I would have only been given 2 days to paint the gallery, so instead I am thankful I had months to work on the walls before transporting them into the gallery.


only at the minor, intial stage of confusion and exhaustion. Here you see my friend the jumpsuit that accompanied me for around 2 months. It was helpful in the cooler months. And honestly, this jumpsuit became meaningful to me, once putting it on in the morning, I was instantly ready to work. And then I didn't want to take it off until the show was completely finished.





Kind souls Dave, Brad, dad, papa, Reed, Peter and Chris met at 7am Saturday morning to transport the walls from the Renschler shop to the Friesen gallery at NNU. (there were donuts)



There are awkward stairs in the Brandt center that made the walls very scary/difficult to carry, but the determined men did excellent. (I felt bad, but I really couldn't help, besides maybe the opening of doors, so I chose to document)




This shows proportions pretty well.



This is the entrance to the gallery before the temporary doors were installed. You can see that upon entering, you could only see plywood against the glass walls with the exception of two square windows providing a sneak of a peak inside. (and I must clarify, the wood wasn't leaning against the glass once fully installed)





situating walls in gallery


This is the only shot I have of the living room (plywood walls to the right).



Look at that generous work!


The walls were transported and mostly in place by 9am. I think these three went back to bed. The next couple of days I had a lot of work to do that I couldn't perform before installation. I learned a lot about stress management. I hope. I don't think the jumpsuit was taken off until the day before the reception.


Hero framer Brad, doing what he does best!


There are things I would change about the show looking back, but I wouldn't trade what I learned through the process. This show was a needed step in me understanding different aspects of being an artist. And we had a nice party in the end too. Thank you friends who came, it was wonderful having you be a part of the installation!
Here are some photos, courtesy of my friend, Reed Reeder.




























(sorry it took a year to post these Bethany!)


Here is the dirty retired jumpsuit. This photo was taken for an advertisement I was designing but I wanted to show you why we will never see or wear this treasured garmet again.

little chicklet teeth

On our first day back, 4 first graders smiled widely to display their new hole and tell me of their recently missing tooth. They were so excited, this is what they had been waiting for. Some would smile and not say a word, expecting me to of course know what they were communicating, weren't we all waiting for this accomplishment? I am honored to be one to whom they can show their holes in their mouth. I realized this event in their lives is similar to the equivalent of me finding a job (soon?!) or my uncle's first day of fishing season or my friends buying a house or my other friends sending their final little one to school or my grandpa's welcoming of his first lavendar patch of the year. It's nice to enjoy eachother's "firsts" What are yours this spring?

In a completely unrelated manner please enjoy this dialogue between my mother and thirteen year old sister last night.

mom: (passionately) "Kadyn, with your body weight if you were to take three drinks you would have alcohol poisoning!"

kadyn:(pause) " Did you learn that from 'ER'?"

mom: (longer pause) "yes"

ER lives on, I guess those 15 years really impacted her.

back to it

After a wonderful (and the most appreciated in my 10 years of charter school experience) two and a half week spring break, I will go back to work tomorrow. But enough about that, it's still Sunday!

I was reminded on Friday that a clear sign of a good friend is one who chooses to spend an hour or two in target instead of the necessary twenty minutes.

My male co-worker at Anthropologie educated me a bit on how you can tell where someone is from. I will share with you. I guess all you have to do is look at a girl's ponytail. He said "a girl is totally from the west coast if her ponytail is set high on her head. And she is definitely from the east if the ponytail rests at her neck."
Okay. I guess I've seen evidence of this but was not aware of the standard. I then asked him where I am from if I like to wear my ponytail (bad name) pulled back, I guess aligned with my ears.
Without taking more than a second, Brian told me I must be from the midwest.
Niiiice. I like the midwest and you can tell from my ponytail.

After a week of clouds, wind, rain and snow I spent my Saturday outside at my dear friend's second birthday party. It was perfect out. Perfect for chalk and bubbles, the constant grazing of good snacks, a lime in my sparkling water, sitting and closing my eyes in yes, a tank top and actually feeling that sweet sun, and perfect for my friend's favorite activity of the day, twirling and falling down so many times. Ah, yes.

Tonight I heard a beautiful piano recital by a friend who has spent months preparing. Superb. Then my dad bought me peanut butter n' chocolate ice cream at the only acceptable place to eat such a flavor. satisfied and blessed I will head to bed.

yes

I don't know of much better than a toddler you love finding the perfect hammock on your lap. Their relaxed head makes you feel the same and not care about the pull of your shirt or the squirms that come every thirty seconds. It makes you want to read Madeleine or Curious George a whole lot slower.

feeling it

tonight, sitting in what was I guess the front row, but instead front couch, listening to a nice band visiting from florida, I enjoyed dancing. But not the usual show dance or happy dance or group of friends who can't really but really love to dance.

Only my feet were moving, but man were they feeling it.

It was as if all of the energy that could be worn off by a full body dance (?) was directed to my feet. And I could watch from above like a puppeteer. This dancing was so satisfying. There were different movements for syncopation, felt mostly in my knees, a sort of steady unplanned "kick, ball, change" for keeping time and the toe to heel scatterings across the floor mirroring the mood and tempo.

It was too loud to really say much but I could look to my left and my right at Caleb and Kaysha, exchange a nod, maybe a point and know that they were dancing too.

2:40-2:50 pm

While winter was as cold as I try to forget, bus duty, my last ten minutes of my work day, has become a nice part of my daily routine. It is a harsh but appreciated transition of space. After hours of hushed reading and writing of students with wavering moods, I walk out the door, take two sharp turns and lead the first graders to the bus. These nice, forming creatures are just as happy as I to be filled with the fresh air- so much so that I am forced to politely yet sternly say, "Stop running please".

Then come the big kids. Or bigger kids. These ones are so excited and are somewhat preoccupied with getting the best seat on the bus, so I am forced to be a bit more forceful. "Stop running please, the rules have not changed!" (The most confusing run-in with the running rule is the dilemma of whether or not I should let them run if they are running late. If they are in jeopardy of missing the bus I of course do not stop them, yet I am letting up on my one and very important rule) There are a few who try me at least twice a week, hoping I will become bored of being the annoying bus duty girl. I am closer than ever before to understanding the eyes in the back of the head phenomena.
And then there are the days that I actually am bored, there are no children to stop from running, and I find it fun to sometimes join in on the conversations that are vital to get out before parting ways for a few hours, though most are so confused as to why I would contribute and forget what they were saying all together.
I have realized in the last couple weeks, now that sun has flown back north, that these ten minutes are one of the best parts of my day. I find myself smiling, laughing or singing without apparent reason. And then recognize it is the air, the beautiful sun, the kids laughing and yesterday even the wind that messed up my freshly salon-ed hair, that can at once make me thankful to be alive standing on the concrete at the charter school in the middle of some fields.