And of course a weekend in vero beach is as it has always been- slow, uneventful, tiring as hell, full of frustrating (in the best way) conversations. My brother is moving from vero in a week’s worth of days so he’s been wrapping up a year’s worth of classroom rules, lesson planning, assignment grading, student and faculty relationships, you know running the gamut that is correctly labeled finishing well.
One of my fav things he did during his last week before his seniors graduated was host a meal during his morning period classes (which they called the 2nd and 3rd thanksgiving. He had students organize who would bring what and they ended up with skillets making pancakes, bagels getting shmeared, and coffee flowing like tide (I wasn’t there but his description laid out a royal spread). On top of it all was somewhat of a class finale led by mike where he handed out awards that he created for the most memorable moments, shared laughs, but also awards for students who truly put forth effort. My personal fav award was the “Kenny Award, (or the reason why snacks are not permitted in class award)”. Kenny was the fictitious student spoken of throughout the year that always made a mess of his desk whether that be with a bottle of orange juice or baggy of dorritos; I think the award actually went to a girl who brought a large box of ritz crackers, knife, and a jar of pb and was creating an outrageous 10 o’clock snack one day when Mike was at the board with his back turned. After ten or so of Michael’s awards, students took a few cracks at letting their teacher know what he had meant to them. Of course, all that I recant in this blog is second hand, but I just really got the picture that it was all beautiful resolution to a long and taxing year for students and teacher.
I’m not sure if she received an award in his class or took a stab at the round-the-horn thankyou session, but a foreign exhange student from Germany wrote Michael a card that has been sitting on the desk in his room since I arrived. I either physically pick it up or just remind myself of its charm near every time I walk thru his door. It’s a simple card, no extravagance in design, just pure genuine thought with a date, greeting, and salutation in respective predictable locations. However, attached to the other side with scotch tape is a cut-out, most likely from a national geographic magazine, of a painting by Tom Wudl entitled, “The Birth of Jan Van Eyck and the Extent of His Influence…1988-1989.”
Of course a good deal of my present and future appreciation of this painting is due to the fact that Michael’s student took the time to scribble a letter on the back of a thin yet sturdy white 4x7 sheet of cardboard attaching the ng cutout to its posterior, nevertheless, I believe it would have slain me had I stumbled upon it in any circumstances.
Wudl’s painting, the pasted and cropped (sadly) photo overhead, places Jan Van Eyck at the smack center (I will not attempt even the slightest of serious criticisms on this piece in this blog though it is something I do intend to do at some point (most likely via wikipedia)) and with 6 arms outstretched in varying positions, his eyes near closed as if he’s reminiscing a thought he’s hoping will break the silence of the mind of whoever views the piece. Eyck is standing on the base of a mountain, lightning crashing overhead, baby falling, air balloon rising, cityscape, waterscape, mountainscape, treescape, every strata of society zoomed in, broken off into squares, spliced in till one can hardly imagine any motif…rockets...ornithology…sailboat (full career). All great stuff and again, no serious criticism here, but I just want this. I want to get really deep into the way of living and influence that this painting epitomizes, emulates, encourages. I want a full-orbed glance at all the beauty there is to find in this life.
Our weekend in Vero presumably came to a close this morning, after daily happy hour visits to Waldo’s, chucking the Frisbee on the beach yesterday, hanging till late with Josh, Mike, and Kevin. breakfast this morning at the French diner will cue our exit this afternoon and my eyes will cringe again on Tuesday morning un-rested and unsettled discontent and malaise with frustrated eyes careening this way and that at the lives everyone else has figured out, after spending memorial day painting a fence in pompano, I’ll wake and perform my duties all over, as “a [dis]functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me,” (fleet foxes).
i wrote the above entry three weeks ago and never posted it, thought it needed more editing, it did, but i'm not going to do it. mj leaves tomorrow for el salvador and as he heads out to work with a school and church i think of Van Eyck and his charismatic look at life and living well.
link to view painting in full beauty http://www.lalouver.com/html/group_08_3/05.html
plant an orchard
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