I have learned a lot these past few months…Just yesterday in fact, I learned how to clip a chickens wings so it can’t fly out of the yard. I watched a You Tube video…and then visited my friends chickens with a pair of scissors and well now I’m an expert.
Most of my learning however has been harder fought, thru a process I like to call “THE LEARNING EXPERIENCE” which looks pretty similar, if not exactly the same as ” A HUGE MISTAKE” ….I would like to share a couple of my most recent learning experiences.If it can help just one other person…then…it is twice as worth it.
I learned how to create ratios this week…Some people learn these in elementary school. Not me. No..I didn’t see a real world application for Math. I’m an artist, I eyeball shit. I made it thru grade school math with D’s..and then later used my double D’s to get thru the rest of my schooling. Let me be frank..I don’t like numbers. Never have. Rattled off in a row the sound of numbers is one of my least favorite noises ( unless its in a song like 8675309) other then that..simply gag. I regularly confuse my social security # with my phone # and if you ask me when my kids were born I REALLY have to think about it. I don’t know dates or numbery things, even money makes me uncomfortable. I keep so little of it that my checkbook balances itself with its own emptyness…like a vacant see-saw on a still day.
About 15 years ago I tried to buy a Land Rover… It was somewhat embarrassing when I smuggly claimed I could buy it with the cash in my overalls and didn’t realize until we were filling out paperwork that 40,000.00 had a different comma placement than 4,000.00
Until recently that was the only math ” learning experience” I have made. And then..last week happened. For the past several months I have been working on a project..if you have seen lately, you have seen me crying….it was because this project was hard…ok so its not like saving lives or disentangling whales hard…but there were a lot of challenges and parameters….It was a gigantic piece and I drew it in a template that I had drawn to scale. I finally finished after weeks of solid frustrating work and changes and then…. Just when it was ready to go to print…it was discovered that my Math was wrong, My template was wrong, my ratio flawed beyond measure. So I took to facebook with my new math query and I learned in 5 minutes what never sunk in during all the years I spent flirting with the guy behind me in math class…..You have to convert the feet to inches.
I finished the project earning somewhere around 14 cents an hour….it looks amazing! The lesson here is this. 9ft by 20ft is NOT the same thing as 9inches by 20inches …I dont know why…but its not..I mean it is for a minute…but then when you triple the inches it gets wonky and is not the same ratio…to convert feet to inches you have to multiply 9×12 and 20×12….( it was a little easier to just change the word feet to inches…but trust me here..not the same!) …If you ever need help..I totally know what I am doing now….which leads me to something else I have learned.
Do not pick up hookers on the street. There is a lovely lady that shuffles by my house on a regular basis. I don’t know why I think she is a hooker. I have never..caught her in the act…It’s just a sense I have. If I were to point her out on the street, you would be like ” oh yeah she is a hooker” and that would be a totally stereotyping…it is possible she is an undercover detective posing as a hooker…or a zombie in a short dress. Also I describe her as shuffling..Everyday she be shuffling…I dont like to think about why…maybe just her feet hurt? It always makes me sad to see her shuffling, and I want to give her a skateboard every time I see her.
Well one day, I was taking my boys to the playground and she shuffled by and asked for a ride.
” Ma’am, can you give me a ride ” she says and I harshly throw back a scared “NO I’m Sorry I can’t” She looks down…( I feel some stuff, a combo of shame, anger, fear, self loathing, defiance and compassion..for which there is no word ) and then she does it. She takes a little shuffle, turns around and says “ma’am..Please”
I look at the faces of my little boys in the backseat, Ogdens eyes widen, he knows that is the magic word. I debate with myself. She is human, she is your neighbor, she is your sister in this world in which we are all connected, she is in need, she is asking for help. What do you want to show your son, what will he learn in this moment…will he learn to be afraid, to be cold, to be too trusting , to be taken advantage of? what will he see in you? …..I ask her some questions..”where you headed” i ask …just a few blocks away, “whats your name?” I ask ..she gives me one…..Ok I say. OK
Before you call the department of children and family services on me…let me explain I do not make a habit of picking up strangers…also (in case you do call)..my children collect beer bottle caps.
SO She gets in the car, and we drive a few blocks, I am talkin up a storm and she kind of starts to nod off…OMG I am driving around a half dead hooker…Hello I startle her..I think maybe she is on something…”where do you live” I ask her…silence…my heart starts racing, somethings not right..
” where do you live” I ask again. I am looking forward gripping the steering wheel and she is facing out the window and I here a voice. It is like nothing I have ever heard before..high pitched..possessed..like a witch or a ghost or a child…”YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE A HOUSE” …but she says it so bizarrely it sounds like ” ewwwe donttt eeeevin haaave a howssssss” My heart is in a drunken gallop, I feel dizzy I pull over in the middle of the street. GET OUT… I scream, she jolts awake, GET OUT I SCREAM, I need you to get out….she looks at me blankly…” I need you to get out of my car, I need you to get out of my car, I need you to get out of my car” I am in a panic, I keep repeating it over and over, as she unfastens her seatbelt..yes ma’am she says, I’m sorry, she says..and she looks so confused, I feel terrible, but I need her out of my car, I am freaked out…Finally she is out. standing on the side of the road. I drive off watching her shuffle in my rearview… My heart is still racing, mind reeling and then….
From the back seat, I hear..this high pitched weird little voice of a 7 year old practicing funny voices ..”Whyyyy deed you dooo that mawm” I realize at once…it was Ogden with the possessed little kid voice. He was just talkin in one of his new styles… I turn the car around with the thought that I will apologize for kicking her out…but that I am simply not comfortable giving rides to strangers even if they say please..I see her, I slow down the car, she sees me..and literally runs across the street, looking behind her like I’m coming to get her. Wow..I really scared the crap outta that hooker. I see her all the time now, and she always looks slightly terrified of me.
I have drawn the conclusion that the best part of making mistakes is finding the learning in them. It makes the mistake much more like a gift. From math tricks, to turning tricks…..I hope my learning experiences can benefit someone else.
*The above picture has nothing to do with this really, Only its about pimps, chickens and trash…and I was writing about hookers, chickens and math…so it seemed to fit.
