Spines of the books from our class in Taos, New Mexico: *What Beckons You?*

Many of you have heard me talk about the poet, William Stafford. He was also a compelling teacher, a prince of the imagination, at Lewis & Clarke College in Portland, Oregon. He said to his students, regarding their work, it’s not for me to praise or blame — but in the end, to be envious of your work. This is the pang and pride of teaching, to be inspired to be better by witnessing your work. He also said (when asked in disbelief by his students) how can you possibly write a poem every morning?! To which he famously replied lower your standards. I realized at some point that the man had no arrogance. He didn’t say he had to write a good poem each morning, he just wrote. He didn’t have to feel like writing or have anything good to say, he just showed up. Some work would end up in the trash. He let the world decide.

In class we all start at the beginning, by arriving. By returning to practices that get deeper each time we step in the river. By not hurrying. By creating a sacred space with uninterrupted time. By opening to the cross-pollination that happens naturally when we gather together. For as long as humans have been here and we have any records — makers, musicians, poets and writers have been gathering in circles to inspire reaching for the far horizon.

But before I show you the student work just done in my class at the Mabel Dodge Luhan House in Taos, New Mexico, let me introduce two of the best chefs in the world: Sophia (left) and Marta (right) demonstrated for us how to make chili rellenos, tamales and sopapillas. They are experts at traditional foods, as well as delicious variations for vegetarians, gluten free, etc.

Sophia demonstrating the making of tamales (left) Marta showed us how to make sopapillas and assemble the salad with fresh greens (right)

Tamales and sopapillas from the kitchen at Mabel’s
Below is a short clip of the demonstration that Sophia gave us from the fabulous kitchen at Mabel’s:

And now for the creativity of the students who came to my class: We made square books and worked with a Berber script, which is based on a square. It was an ongoing process of puzzle, discovery, and delight, as the Berber alphabet is unique in its geometric forms. In the book page below you can see an example of working with the alphabet at different scales. Alphabet practice was balanced with retrieving something from the natural world for blind contour drawing.

Book page | blind contour drawing & lettering | Sumi ink, watercolor & graphite | © Gaston Yagmourian

Cover & inside page | lettering with our Berber script | St Armand handmade paper, white gouache, walnut ink | © Barbara Courtney

The question what beckons you was part of the preparation for class, and it continued in Taos, where we went on “noticing walks” and brought back something from the natural world to draw. The historical practice of blind contour drawing is the perfect way to really notice the object you are drawing, to see it fully — being free of the judgements about what is happening on your paper. Being free of mind-weeds. It is the perfect way to start the day — getting out of my head and opening to beholding.