Suddenly going from teaching 13 units to 4 has needless to say, altered my routine. Lesson prepping, grading assignments and building modules on my Canvas shells have been replaced with updating my resume and applying for part time work. This morning I even exercised, squinting at my laptop trying to follow the blonde woman inContinue reading “An Altered Routine”
Author Archives: mijinkangart
Friday is a boy hiding …
Friday is a boy hiding under his bed before school because he was told he didn’t clean his room when he’s sure he did. It is crocodile tears, a cradling, a murmuring of mama words of sorry because she said things in haste and didn’t take the time to explain and teach. Friday is theContinue reading “Friday is a boy hiding …”
Thursday is making breakfast . . .
Thursday is making breakfast just for yourself. It is cutting a thick slice of homemade sourdough bread from the local coffee shop and toasting it until its crust is brittle and crisp. It is smothering the bread with a leftover avocado half then drizzling it with some olive oil. You top it with crumbled feta,Continue reading “Thursday is making breakfast . . .”
Sitting Still: A Dose of Peace
There’s this wooden swing outside our sliding door. It’s where I meet with God. I step outside and take my place, slowly swing, sip my tea, listen to music and wait. This morning was the first time in weeks sitting on the swing because of how cold and rainy it’s been. But today was aContinue reading “Sitting Still: A Dose of Peace”
Wednesday is a morning of . . .
Wednesday is a morning of words that snap and sting the little ones. It is reading about the perspective of children, their awe and wonder of life that surprises and brings unfettered joy and so I cry, weep at all the times I forget that my way is not the only way.
Monday is leaving a love note . . .
Monday is leaving a love note for my daughter and attempting to make lasagna for her. It is the memory of my mom’s lasagna baked with heavy cream cheese, decadent and different from our usual meal of rice, soup, and banchan. Monday is seeing my daughter cry– her lashes held together by tears. It isContinue reading “Monday is leaving a love note . . .”
Sunday is a torrential rainfall . . .
Sunday is a torrential rainfall that doesn’t let up for a second. It is a release of all that was held in– a deep wail from the belly of the sky. The rain drenches the once dry earth and soaks it to its very bones. It is the sound of beautiful chaos– of winds thatContinue reading “Sunday is a torrential rainfall . . .”
Wednesday is wearing . . .
Wednesday is wearing Jane’s oversized turtleneck the color of dark green moss. It is laundry day and lining up the kids’ cloth masks like a row of cards on the bench outside to dry in the sun. It is setting aside an hour to write with Sumi. We catch up and talk about theContinue reading “Wednesday is wearing . . .”
Tuesday is grocery shopping day.
Tuesday is grocery shopping day. It is wandering the aisles with my green plastic basket, collecting honey crisp apples and yellow peaches that are on sale, a frozen lasagna to heat up for lunch, salmon, and a box of milk cookies. It is riding my bike to go pick up my kindergartener after I’ve eatenContinue reading “Tuesday is grocery shopping day.”
Monday is a holiday . . .
Monday is a holiday for the kids. It is a morning of conversations with my daughter on the couch, that changes her face of flint to tears streaming down and an extended embrace. It is a table where we later on draw and paint. I paint a landscape of fog on Muir Beach, Olive isContinue reading “Monday is a holiday . . .”
mijin kang 