Sunday, February 26, 2012

Mural Chapter Four: Your bird is upside down!

   Klee's original work, "Landscape with Yellow Birds," painted in water color, is a bit tricky to interpret in acrylic on a cement block wall.  We pulled out the fan brush in which to drag our colors and blend.
   I rather enjoy the fact that Klee placed one of his birds upside down  - it disorients what we assume about the scene, and it engages one in a sense of play.  In fact, the motif prompts a number of  high school passersby to bring this observation to my attention.  It will probably take a young student to stop and wonder "Why?"

Mural Chapter Four

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Mural Chapter Two and Three

Let it never be said that we take ourselves too seriously.  From expanding the definition of what constitutes a painting surface, to hamming for a camera, we still manage to get the job done. 

End of week two

End of week three

Sometimes they can't resist...
I wonder how that happened?

Satisfaction at the end of a shift

Applying cover until next session

Sunday, February 5, 2012

The Essential Question

Portrait of Mrs. Calco
Along with my school family, I mourn the death last week of our principal, Kym Calco, after a courageous battle with leukemia.   She was a woman who lived with passion and joy.   Mrs. Calco was a thorough professional, yet knew how to embrace adventure.  It was only last year when, along with several teachers, we accompanied her to Columbus for an ACSI convention.  We must have circled our destination several times, laughing as our GPS had a total meltdown navigating so many detours that it could only repeat “recalculate” in an unending loop.  By the time we shut it off and found the destination on our own, we were late.  Like a seasoned NASCAR driver swinging into the pit, Mrs. Calco maneuvered into our parking spot with what can only be described as efficient precision.  Still bubbling with laughter, she threw off her headscarf and pulled on her wig with practiced ease. We all spilled out of the car at a run, struggling to slip into a more fitting demeanor.  With just minutes to spare, she walked to the front of the sanctuary, composed and dignified to receive a certificate on behalf of LCCS.   She moved seamlessly between different situations,  engaging those around her to be a part of the journey.
As a teacher, she challenged me to dig deeper and reach higher.  I wish I could say I always did so joyfully, but that wouldn’t be honest.    She taught me about how to use “EQs,”or to the uninitiated, “Essential questions.”  They're the questions that can’t be answered with “yes,” “no,” or rote answers.  They’re the ones that distill a lesson down to the one or two meaty things on which I wish my students to chew.    
Standing in a school worship service the day after she died, my heart was lifted to hear our young men and women praying aloud for the Calco family, our school, and thanking God for the impact she had on their young lives.  I want to pause and reflect on that today.   If I were to write the essential question for the lesson she taught me through her luminous example, it would be this:   How can I live to make a difference for Jesus in the lives of others?