Feeling the Pull

"And I'm feeling the pull
Dragging me off again
And I'm feeling so small
Against the big sky tonight"



-The Swell Season


I've come to describe the sensation I sometimes experience as "feeling the pull."  It's that tug to create.  I know I have to make something--specifically drawing or painting.  I feel like I just want to bring an idea forth out of my mind.  


Many times "feeling the pull" can be frustrating.  The idea doesn't want to come out exactly correct, and I have to labor with why it is wrong and what I don't like and how to fix it.  "Feeling the pull" often gets shouted down by more pressing, more practical needs.  But as the needs thin out (read, "as school comes to a close") it's much harder to resist that tug.  

Gay Indiana Jones

My friend Josh made an observation recently that I have dubbed the "Gay Indiana Jones Effect."

Allow me to backtrack a little.

Two weekends ago I took a motorcycle safety course.  This course will allow me to go the the DMV and add a motorcycle endorsement to my driver's license (for those keeping score at home, I will soon be legal to drive a vehicle with two, four, and six wheels).

Why do this, you may ask?

Enter the "GIJE".  Driving a motorcycle is cool.  It's a bit rebellious and adventurous.  But the reason I am getting my motorcycle license is to fly to Maine for my next Fall Fling (my annual autumnal get-away).  So stated in "GIJE" terms, my description would start with an adventurous beginning, and take a slightly more feminine turn at the end: "I'm flying to Maine to ride a motorcycle along the coast...so I can see the fall colors."

Or take my new hobby, collecting butterflies.  Ideally, I would only dry and mount specimens I myself have caught (like the ones pictured here).  But there are some really big, really beautiful butterflies that can only be found in places like Indonesia or South America.  Once again, the "GIJE" would sound something like this: "I'm going to hike the Amazon rainforest over the summer...so I can catch butterflies."  (This is a fictitious example.  I have no actual plans to complete such a trip.)

While this is a somewhat humorous take on my varied interests, it is A) less than sensitive to homosexuals who seem to take a lot of ribbing for having "feminine" interests, and B) a hollow understanding of The Renaissance Man (of whom I take Henry Jones, Jr. to be one).  The picture above is one of my favorites of Indy, showing his more studious side.  [IF ONLY I could have that entire outfit, I think I would die happy!  And believe me: I understand that such a statement may only add fuel to the fire in regard to my "metrosexuality" or whatever short-sighted title one would give it.]  Jones was a college professor (of archeology), an explorer and adventurer, and a ladies man.  Those attributes combined to make him one of the greatest heroes in cinema.  He loved the romance of Venice (see "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade").  He spoke several languages and was a genius of history.  But no one ever called him a "nerd."  Maybe I'm making a false comparison between myself and a fictional movie character, but I don't feel like any single term should be applied to a person with eclectic tastes and activities.  If you saw me in a weight room and observed what I ate throughout the day would you say I'm a nerd with a hint of meat-headedness?

I guess I just resent the insinuation that "artistic"="girly".  Or the fact that people who see me dressed a certain way will ask what I do for a living and when I reply that I am an art teacher they say, "Ahh...now it all makes sense" (this actually happened twice in the past month, the most recent being at the banquet shown above.  Now, granted, seersucker, a bow-tie and white shoes is a bit daring....).  As if they, seeing me dismount my bicycle after riding to school wearing tennis shoes, athletic shorts and a cut-off, would then looked confused and say, "Hmmm....art teacher?  I don't see it."

This has turned into a bit of a rant.  It is not a new idea: don't judge a book by it's cover...the whole is greater than the sum of its parts...etc., etc.  I guess I just want people to deem me "unquantifiable" and stop trying to pigeonhole me into this or that box.  Or give me the title Polymath.  I could live with that.

And now to totally shred any credibility connected to what I just said.

What would you get if you combine all the following hairstyles?

Quiff

Mullet

Pompadour

Elephant's Trunk (Pompadour Variant)

The Vanilla Ice

I know you can't tell that it's long in the back, but the sides are shaved, the back of the head is left long, the top is long and alternates between the elephant's trunk and the pompadour (see motorcycle picture above).  I don't have a name for it, but it is slowly going to become more like The Vanilla Ice.  It is my amusing diversion for the end of the school year, evolving by a three-step process and culminating in a completely ridiculous hairstyle for finals next week.  Stay tuned.
On a more significant note, the banquet in the above picture is called "The Rising Star Banquet" and is hosted by the Keller Chamber of Commerce.  I had never heard of it prior to this year, but it is an event where the top ten individuals of each graduating class (we have four high schools in our district) are recognized and they, in turn, recognize a teacher they consider to have had a significant impact upon them during their schooling.  Jonatan (the bow tie was not coordinated in advance) was one of my brightest art history students last year, and he honored me a great deal by inviting me to the banquet.  It will forever be one of the highlights of my teaching career.

This lengthy post has been brought to you by CHS AP Art History (I've been waiting on the photo emulsion for our silk screen t-shirts to be completely developed.  Hopefully they're ready!)

May Mornings

I was very troubled at the end of April when temperatures were soaring and I thought I was doomed for unending heat over the course of the next six months.  But it turns out there has been a moderate but much appreciated reprieve.  Last week there were some days that could almost be described as cool, and evenings so comfortable and inviting that I was able to smoke (what I fear may be the last for some time) a pipe.
But, OH! the glory of May mornings.  Bright and clear and cool.  They are so enjoyable for biking to work.  On one stretch of my commute I ride beside a field full of wildflowers.  On the way to work the sun is just above the field, sparkling and warming everything it touches, but the air is still cool and sweet.  I do love riding my bike in May.  While the afternoons may warm up enough to cause me to sweat, they are still fairly nice and beautiful.  I know I give Texas a bad rap most of the time in regard to its weather, but since it was on my mind I thought I should stop and celebrate these days.

Happy "Hit By a Car" Day

One year ago today I was hit by a car.  I am amazed to realize that even though it was "only" a broken bone, I am still experiencing some residual effects of the accident a year later.  Even just visually, you can see the scars from the screws that were inserted, but the large red blister of the middle picture (from where the broken bone almost pushed through the skin) still remains as a discolored dent in my leg.  I did just recently sign a settlement, though, so I'm glad to say that the medical bills and the healing are all behind me.  The more I use my leg in strenuous activity the more normal it begins to feel.  All in all, things worked out really well for me.  

So today at lunch we celebrated with cinnamon rolls and rejoice that on this day a year ago things could have gone much worse, but by the grace of God I'm still here, alive and well.