Wu and Wishing Well

I love this word. The silvery, glittery letters remind me every morning to keep a bead on my dreams.

My boss has helpfully provided us with an  online subscription to a professional blog of some kind that furnishes us with “Daily Working Tips.”

I enjoy opening up my email each morning and reading the suggestions  on how to work “smarter”.The whole concept  takes me back to a less tech-y time when thoughts for the day were written in curvy, cursive letters that flowed from my teachers’ chalk onto  cool ebony chalkboards.

Holding a thought is a very important thing. It’s a good way to begin a day.

Today’s helpful hint  regarded the need to trust and believe  in something outside of yourself. That’s sort of a “duh” for me.

Most of the time, I really don’t need to be reminded to believe, but  sometimes, it can seem almost futile to wish, and that is why I remind myself every morning, and every night, to wish.

One must cherish a wish. A wish can be so wispy and ephemeral that  it is almost not even a thought. Wishes are what fairy godmothers and green toads grant to woe begone princesses. Wishes are magical in nature. Just ask Jiminy Cricket. Or a child of eight or an old woman of  eighty as she closes her eyes before blowing out the candles.

Unlike beliefs and convictions,  wishes are products of the heart and the imagination.They are a symptom of our very being.

Much like the feather  borne aloft by the breeze at the beginning and the end of the movie, “Forrest Gump”, our wishes are borne aloft by desires unencumbered by schemes or thought. A wish is ineffable.

Yes, one must believe in certain things. There are strong and compelling principles upon which you can and should  base your life, pillars of morality and centeredness as steadfast and immutable  as the Northern Star.

But it is also a fine thing to lift up our dreams, the thoughts we dare not share, and to make a wish upon a far away  star that twinkles in the lavender dusk between today and tomorrow, or to search for and  find  a four leaf clover, and press its bright green lobes  in the pages of  a favorite  book of poetry.

I wish I may, I wish I might.

Have the wish,

I wish tonight.


Honorable Intentions and Wu

Jornada de una casa a hogar by Maritza Davila

Language makes beautiful music. And when it is spoken with an accent, it becomes even more evocative, and words, because they are singled out in the cadence, and sometimes even misappropriated, have an even more distinct and lively meaning.

Heading home from the Midsummer Night’s Dream production by Ballet Memphis, we discussed how to best offer advice or to coach an artist in a  constructive fashion. I asked Maritza Davila, because she teaches  at the Memphis College of Art, what she tells her students.

“Sometimes a student will come to me and they will tell me, ‘I don’t know what to do!'”, she answered. Maritza has a lovely and emphatic Puerto Rican accent, and her response was equally so.

“I tell them they and their work must have a sense of purpose, and a clarity of intention.”

“A clarity of intention.” Now that really grabbed me.

Clarity is such a marvelous word.  As for intention, I like it, too,  as it goes beyond motivation, and describes something ineffable. We all have something we want to do, would wish to do, or desire to do. Intent alone is not enough, you will wash around willy nilly until you figure out what it is you want; it is clarity that  refines the focus of ones energy.

Maritza also says she tells her students to do research, which for some reason surprised me, but it makes sense. One reads in order to write, so I imagine the same must be true of creating prints. One must know what one is going to create, and not all of that  can come from personal experience.

Teachers who live amongst us  are a gift, not only to their students, but to all of us. They add to the sea of knowledge and beauty that the rest of us swim around in.

The direction that Maritza offers her  students is good advice, and I think that there is proof of it in the amazing success I have experienced with the Wu Food Project.