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I spent much of last week in the company of YoungArts writers whose stories and words were so full of the fearless, so unbroken by other people's ideas of what story and language might be, that there was no way in hell I was going to read an ordinary book on the way home. Not that I seek out the ordinary, ever. But sometimes I get stuck with it, and I get rankled through.

So I went to Books & Books while the YoungArtists were listening to people like Joshua Bell and Bill T. Jones and Adrian Grenier and Debbie Allen talk (oh, my), because I knew I could rely on a famous independent to cut the deck of new releases right.  And there, on the front table, I found The Colour of Milk, by Nell Leyshon.  I had never heard of it or her, but because I am forever milking my own metaphors, I was intrigued.  Read the first two lines.  Bought it.  Finished it on the flight home.  Held it to my chest—this riveting, fierce, enveloping, and I-know-you-want-to know-what-it-is-actually-about book, so let me explain that in a line or two.  The Colour of Milk is the story of a girl in the year 1831 who has learned literacy, but at a terrible price.  Milk is her story, her confession.  Milk will break your heart. 

Let me show you how it starts:

this is my book and i am writing it by my own hand.

in this year of lord eighteen hundred and thirty one I am reached the age of fifteen and i am sitting by my window and i can see many things.  i can see birds and they fill the sky with their cries.  i can see the trees and i can see the leaves.

and each leaf has veins which run down it.

and the bark of each tree has cracks.

i am not very tall and my hair is the colour of milk.

my name is mary and i have learned to spell it.  m.a.r.y.  that is how you letter it.

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This year the National YoungArts Foundation received some 10,000 applications for its extraordinary program celebrating emerging artists in the visual, literary, and performing arts fields.  The teen finalists—152 of them—are now just a few weeks away from participating in YoungArts Week in Miami, a program designed to celebrate their talents, to extend their reach, and to engage them in conversation and exercises that will hopefully shape their way of seeing and doing for years to come.

As the Master Teacher for the 24 young writers who were selected for the program (writing being just one of nine celebrated disciplines), I am blessed.  I'll be teaching in the city's botanical gardens.  I'll be asking the students to come prepared with a brief autobiography of their hair, a declaration about the books that have changed their perception of both story and language, and a photograph of themselves that firmly divides a Before from an After.  We'll explore the garden in search of telling details, weatherscapes, and invisible, essential forces.  We will write bird song and water rush.  We will assimilate and empathize.

I am eager to meet the young writers. I am eager to learn from the program's other master teachers and presenters—Marisa Tomei, Bobby McFerrin, Bill T. Jones, Debbie Allen, Joshua Bell, and Adrian Grenier, among others.  I am eager to spend some time in Miami.

But first things first.  Today I officially welcome my students, who will be arriving from San Francisco, Birmingham, Holladay, Boonton, and all manner of places in between.

Congratulations, and welcome:

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My sketch from Park(ing) Day

Photo courtesy Queen City Bike

Friday was Park(ing) day where different groups in Over-the Rhine converted parking spaces into little parks. My friend Cheryl Crowe asked me to sketch in the Queen City Bike space for the afternoon. It was great fun. I had dressed expecting cold and rain, but we lucked out!

More about the event and more pictures of other artists and spaces:

http://5chw4r7z.blogspot.com/2012/09/cincinnati-parking-day.html

http://www.urbancincy.com/2012/09/cincinnatians-transform-dozens-of-parking-spaces-into-temporary-parks/

http://www.blogotr.com/otr/cincinnati-parking-day-2012-in-otr/

Me Sketching; Nern Ostendorf models the yarn bombed chair by Katie Wearne. Photo courtesy Queen City Bike

Full park view... Photo courtesy Queen City Bike

A beautiful evening...

A CSO violinist was entertaining diners...

 After an afternoon sketching, A friend and I went over to the Joshua Bell Concert with the CSO at Music Hall. The concert was AMAZING. If you have not seen him perform, I highly recommend it.

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