Fever Dreams

Nothing's worse than the dreams that come with a fever.

On Friday night I came down with something terrible that, in my best estimation, slightly resembled malaria, although that might just be my tendency of being melodramatic.

All night I had a high-stress dream of being involved in some sort of political debate, undoubtedly triggered by an earlier in-depth discussion of politics earlier that evening with the friends we were visiting. I can't say what exactly I was in charge of or what was being argued, but there was a lot of money involved and some big decisions to be made and we were going back and forth. I tossed and turned with every single argument and counterargument. Even after waking, the second I fell back asleep was the second the arguments continued.

On Saturday night, I had another high-stress dream where I was given the responsibility of being in charge of some sort of informational database resembling Wikipedia. I was in charge of receiving all sorts of information on all sorts of topics from all sorts of sources, and I had to somehow sort and organize it all. By the morning, though, after several hours of many other topics, I was able to focus purely on the Sufjan Stevens article, of course, and was relieved to at least be in charge of a topic I was interested in.

The only break I got from that dream was when the No Doubt concert that my church was hosting had to be canceled because of a tornado warning.

Last night was a bit more peaceful. The only thing I can remember is checking out at a dollar store that did not carry Tylenol but did carry a few other things I apparently needed. Come to think of it, I think I was buying some high-powered flashlights to search for my brother who was lost in the mountains. When I tried to pay with my credit card, the cashier told me he didn't know how to do it because he hadn't been trained yet. I tried figuring it out on my own, but when a pile of parking tickets came out of the machine instead of a receipt, I decided to take advantage of the situation, let him deal with it, and went on my way.

So I'm on a sick day today, which, assuming I return tomorrow, will give me a 3-day week this week and a 3-day week next week (because of President's Day weekend). Maybe this malarial fever isn't so bad after all.

The Double Knot Expert

Several boys in my classroom have problems with chronically untied shoelaces, but one in particular really got to me yesterday. After asking him to tie his shoes on three different occasions throughout the day, I was fed up. In the middle of teaching, I looked down and saw his shoelace untied AGAIN. So I stopped what I was doing, knelt down, and began tying his shoe nice and tight.

As I did so, I said, "You know, there's this really cool invention called the double-knot. If you use it, your shoelaces hardly ever come untied! It's amazing!" (Maybe this is another example of why students complain about my sarcasm.)

This morning, shortly after he entered the classroom for the first time, he held up his shoe in his hand and said, "Mr. Shorb, since you're such an expert at double-knots, can you come untie this for me? I don't know how to do it."

Puzzled, I looked at him and asked, "Well how did you get your shoe off?"

"I never had it on all the way," he explained. "I came to school with it halfway on, walking on the back of my shoe."

Ahh, of course. With that, I taught him how to UNTIE a double-knot, probably dripping with just as much sarcasm as the day before.

I will decline making any further comments.

Changes

I walked into a great record store in Allentown to find that they have become exactly that: a record store. The racks of CDs that once sat in the middle have been replaced with shelves of LPs. They've had plenty of LP inventory for years, and it looks like they've finally bit the bullet and got it organized. Now, I'm a supporter of vinyl and all, don't get me wrong, but isn't that a little overboard? Is this really a wise business move?! At any rate, I went in hoping to purchase a specific CD for somewhere around $12, but instead I walked out with the LP version for $18. That's the price you pay, I guess, for large artwork and 120 gram vinyl, not to mention limited playing ability and sub-par audio quality. Or maybe that's just the price you pay to a guy trying to make a living off of selling LPs.

---

There's a small homey synagogue a couple of blocks away from our house that went up for sale a few months back. Erica and I walked past it today, and I noticed it has been completely stripped of all Hebrew and Jewish symbols to make it a bit more marketable. The cornerstones with the building dates were cemented over because they included Hebrew writing. The rod-iron railings were replaced with new rod-iron railings that no longer included the Star of David. The beautiful stained glass windows were taken out and replaced with bland commercial windows. The big heavy ornamental door was replaced with a regular old glass door. If this isn't antisemitism, it's at least creating a dull place void of any character, which in my little world could be considered as just as much of a travesty.

Windows to Heaven

In the classroom, my world history professor was a complete bore. But lectures aside, he was a sweet enough old man who enjoyed, appreciated, and encouraged good thought and good discussion.

Every Wednesday he canceled class and held individual meetings with his students instead. When I met with him in his office, he asked about my interests, life aspirations, and so forth. When he found out my main interest was music--playing, collecting, listening, and so forth--he shared his thoughts on the art form.

He told me that he has always considered music as a "window to heaven," a way in which God reveals a small portion of himself to us, a way to catch a small glimpse of heaven. As he writes about the same idea in one of his books, he says, "God may not reveal himself from his heavenly throne as much as we would like; however, our faith is that in his love he communicates to us no less than we need if we will but intensely listen and observe."

He quotes Emerson as saying, "Music takes us out of the actual and whispers to us dim secrets that startle our wonder as to who we are, and for what, whence, and whereto. " He quotes Thomas Carlyle as saying, "Music is well said to be the speech of angels, in fact, nothing among the utterances allowed to man is felt to be so divine. It brings us near to the Infinite."

And all of this was brought to mind as I watched Sigur Ros perform on their documentary Heima. As a band, they possess a keen sense of beauty, endless creativity, a simultaneous appreciation for simplicity and complexity, the pursuit of collaboration, and a strong exemplification of brotherhood. Each of these things, as I've said, truly make their work heavenly. Of course, it definitely doesn't hurt to have the hills and rivers and mountains of Iceland as a heart-stirring backdrop.

As I watch them interact and perform together, I wear a wide, uncontrollable smile, simply from knowing the joy they must be feeling as they create something beautiful together. I know this feeling of this inexpressible pleasure that comes from a song building and growing as each one joins and does his part, creating something truly glorious, or from the moving moments of quiet when the band members sit silently, listening to the string quartet finishing out a song.

Watching the Icelandic people join in the act, a people who appear to appreciate beauty and brotherhood just as much as the band does, only makes all of this even more powerful.

And this heavenly music inspires me to continue the pursuit of helping others see and appreciate art in all forms.





Using a marimba made of found rocks...

I feel it's my duty...

The Sigur Ros documentary Heima is quite wonderful. I recommend you find a way to get a hold of it and enjoy. (It's still not on Netflix, yet.) There is something about them that is quite heavenly, and I mean that in the truest sense of the word. More on that later.

The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters was pretty much everything I hoped it would be. There were twelve people here to enjoy it with us last night, and enjoy it we did. Check it out.

Away From Her arrived from Netflix yesterday. Looking forward to it.

Diving Bell and the Butterfly arrives in Allentown next week.

There Will Be Blood countdown: one hour and thirty minutes. I guess that means I should hop in the shower now.

Kids in the Metropolitan Museum of Art

Sign #284 that I'm not in public school anymore: We took a field trip to New York City on Wednesday and visited the Museum of Natural History and the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

It was my first time being at both museums, and we toured them at an intensely rapid rate.

For much of it, I was just along for the ride, doing my best to corral kids and keep them focused while my co-teachers did the leading and talking. But in the afternoon as our visit was nearing an end, when we reached the 19th century art and later the Modern art, my focus was not so much on the kids. And that was fine, because here the kids' focus was not on messing around or finishing up the tour; they were mesmerized and engrossed in what they saw. For a brief moment, Van Gogh, Monet, Renoir, Picasso, Degas, and the other greats were their babysitters and teachers, and I was able to focus my attention in whatever way I pleased.

I don't know if it's part of being upper class or if this is just an unusually astute group of kids, but these 5th graders love art. And of course, I love them for it.

I saw one boy studying a Monet painting like an adult, staring good and hard, by himself, for several minutes on end. I approached him. Without acknowledging each other, and without taking our eyes off the painting, his immediate question was, "What's the first thing that catches your eye in this painting?" I was floored. We had a grown-up conversation on focal points and how Monet created a simple sense of movement in this scene of trees.

As I was finishing up that conversation, another boy excitedly came to me and said, "Mr. Shorb, if you want to see some Van Gogh paintings I know exactly where they are."
"Show them to me," I said. He lead me into the next room and I said, "Ok, so, where are they?"
In a very impressed and matter-of-fact tone he said, "Well, it's pretty easy, because pretty much every painting in this room is a Van Gogh." His excitement was serious and contained.
"What do you like most about Van Gogh's work?" I asked.
"He used a lot of paint on his canvas to get a lot of texture. Pretty cool," he responded.

I could not believe these kids.

I walked into another room and saw several students who had found a comfortable seat in front of a huge painting of a woman on a balcony. They were engrossed in the painting and were sketching what they saw on their papers. Later on when we got up to go and walked into the next exhibit, one of the boys said to me, "Mr. Shorb, I couldn't find any Van Gogh paintings."
"Oh no!" I said. "There was a whole room of them back there!"
"There was?" he asked.
"Yes! There were so many of them! You were too engrossed in the big beautiful painting you found!"
"Oh man!" He was surprised and speechless. He was very disappointed for the rest of the day, kicking himself for missing Van Gogh. I tried consoling him by telling him the painting he found was just as wonderful, and it was time well spent.

As I type this, I continue to be baffled. How can this be?! How can 10 and 11 year olds be such astute observers of art?! And it's not just nerdy kids who can't do anything else. It's the athletes and the techies and the popular girls, too! All of them! My only hope is that it won't wear off in adulthood as it often does.

We made our way up to the modern art exhibit, full of wonderful, intriguing, whimsical pieces by Pollock, Warhol, Lichtenstein, Rauschenberg, and the others. This was the last exhibit of the day, and as soon as we entered the weary fifth graders perked up. The volume level rose, kids were darting from painting to painting, pointing, looking, giggling, raising eyebrows.

It was so interesting to see the commonly held views and opinions of modern art emerging from 10 years olds. Some were adamantly irreverent in their dismissal: "That's stupid! I could paint that! That doesn't deserve to be in a museum!" Others were a bit more polite, honestly questioning: "Why is this considered art?" One sweetheart wanted to give it a chance, but just couldn't understand: "Mr. Shorb, I don't get it. That painting just doesn't seem very hard to do. I guess it looks OK, but what's so special about it?" Then there were the quiet ones, looking carefully and thoughtfully.

One girl pointed to a bizarre painting featuring some large toes from a piece of an advertisement for corn removers. Although there was skepticism in her voice, the question she asked was beautiful: "Mr. Shorb, what do you think of that?"

(I say it's a beautiful question not because she was asking me of my opinion, but because she was trying to understand something instead of dismissing it immediately. It reflects an attitude completely opposite of the ubiquitous argument, "I could paint that! My little sister could paint that!")

I explained to her the little bit that I know about Pop Art. She listened and nodded. When I asked her what she thought, she said hesitantly, "It's good, I guess. It's interesting."

So anyway, all of this gave me plenty to think about in the way of art and personalities, things I have a feeling I'll continue thinking on for a long time to come. And all of this made the exhausting day a good field trip.

Thank the Lord for Rain Days

I'm still not exactly sure why, but nearly all the schools in the area decided the rain was too much to handle today, and we were all given the day off.

I'll take it! What a pleasant surprise.

Selflessness, Joy, and Integrity

As I found out on Sunday night once I was halfway through my lesson, there's a whole lot to discuss in Acts 16. At the same time, all the bits and pieces of stories give you something to get the conversation started, but not enough to draw very many conclusions.

But perhaps the most striking part of the chapter is the picture of Paul and Silas in jail. They end up sharing the gospel with the prison guard when he so keenly asks, "What must I do to be saved?" But I would venture to say one of the only reasons the guard is interested in asking them a question like this is because of what they do to set the stage beforehand.

Going completely against Roman law, Paul and Silas are denied a fair trial, severely beaten, and thrown in jail for completely unfounded reasons. As far as we know, this happened with little protest from them. They chose not to speak up, letting go of any sense of self-entitlement to which we are typically accustomed. It's likely the guard was watching this selflessness.

How did they respond to this hardship and suffering? They sought God and focused on him in prayer and singing. They rejoiced in bleakest of circumstances. This joy really must have been on Paul's mind while he was in Philippi, as it later becomes the theme of his letter to the believers there: "Rejoice in the Lord always; I will say it again: Rejoice!" It's likely the guard overheard their joy.

But what strikes me most is how they respond to an earthquake that throws the prison doors open. Instead of bolting for the door and making an easy escape, they stay put. They act rightly, and in doing so, they save the guard's life who otherwise would have been held accountable. (He was about to commit suicide to speed up the process.) This was an act of integrity, where even though they were treated unjustly in the first place, they chose not to retaliate or take the easy way out. The guard was eternally grateful for their integrity.

These three acts set the stage for an incredible encounter between the guard and the apostles. A simple question with a simple answer:

"What must I do to be saved?"

"Believe on the Lord Jesus."

And discipleship, service, obedience, fellowship, and joy all follow this authentic conversion. This shows both that God had a plan in mind in this crazy turn of events, and it reminds me, yet again, of how Paul and his missionary friends acted upon every single set of circumstances as another opportunity to share the gospel.

But, the question keeps ringing in my mind, what kept Paul and Silas from running out of the prison when they had the chance?

As my brother-in-law shared, we often tend to think we know our situations better than God does and we can handle them better than He can. Short on money? We'll find shortcuts in our taxes or write more on our timecard instead of waiting on God to provide. In need of a job? We'll embellish our resume and tell small untruths in an interview instead of trusting God for the right job. Single and sexually frustrated? We'll compromise our standards in a variety of creative ways instead of having faith that his plan and design have our best interests in mind.

Stuck in prison for no reason while there's a job to be done? We'll bolt for the door instead of trusting God has us there for a reason and making the most of the opportunity at hand.

Oh God! May we learn to be people of deeper trust and consistent integrity!

More good movies...

So, I guess the way the film industry goes these days, you wait a whole year for some good movies, and then once December and January roll around, you get your fill. Then, you have to spend the rest of the year trying to catch up on the ones you missed during those months.

We saw the Savages on Friday night, which was very excellent. We also watched The Lives of Others--last year's best foreign film at the Oscars--which was also very excellent. Read my brief reviews over here. I would venture to say The Savages would find their way onto my top 10 list if I were to revise it.

We're showing the King of Kong at our place on Friday night, and There Will Be Blood finally comes to the area this weekend.

Lastly, I was happy to find that now when I approach the elders about showing Lars and the Real Girl to our church, I'll be able to back it up by saying it's Christianity Today's second 'Most Redeeming Film of 2007.'

together we're better

This is a little project my class completed in honor of Martin Luther King Day. Each student got a small square from a portrait of MLK, and they had to copy their image onto a large white square using a black pen. I told them from the start that we would put them together, creating a portrait of Martin Luther King. They had some serious doubts about how it would work, but it was a wonderful moment when I unveiled the final project to gasps of excitement. They were quite surprised and pleased with the final outcome. The portrait is 2'x2' and hanging on a bulletin board in the back of the room.