The Impermanence of Teaching, Art, Life, and Car Windows.


All cartoons are drawn with Micron .1 pens in a Paperblank journal: no corrections, fixes, or second chances. Boldly, onward, I draw.

Life is a Mandala.

Grain by grain we create edifices of color and shape.

At times, we think we see ourselves back out of these precious creations.

But the creations are not us, and we are not they.

One thing links the Self to Creation – impermanence.

Artist David Hammons sold snowballs in Manhattan as performance art. Larger snowballs, bigger price tag.

But the minute it’s sold, it begins to melt, evaporate.

Some nights ago, I awoke from a nightmare. It was the last day of class.

I mentioned a basic idea we’d spent the whole year learning.

No one knew what I was talking about.

I believe that dream reminds me to let go.

I cannot own the students’ learning. I cannot keep what they remember.


When my journal was stolen, I cried for the lost art and lost memories.

I don’t regret my tears for my lost art.

But in truth, my journal still resides in the place my students’ learning resides after they’ve forgotten it.

In the realm of impermanence, where all things go.

But that which is gone is not really gone, just changed.

Just as my students’ learning has trickled down to their hearts,

My art has joined the great, cosmic Mandala.