june 18
june 10
june 7
june 2
may 26
and now I remember the other thing that made me smirk: a middle school student had used two plastic grocery bags as socks, because she borrowed a boy's shoes, and didn't want to have her feet touch the sweaty boy shoes.
may 25
Things that made me smile today:may 20
the whirlwind that is the end of the year here is semi-normal to me now. Seniors are being almost downright sappy towards one another. Two students of mine who were quippy to each other all semester are being Nice and Pleasant. Staff who served for just one year have a dazed look, as if they had only just last week unpacked their bags. I'm glad that God is in control of all these comings and goings. My comings and goings are nearly legend. I'm the girl who's away; the one who moves a lot; the Alaskan who likes her tent. Everyone here follows some tragectory. Mine is a little more noticeable, not more remarkable other than that. Pray that I will know how to serve next year. I'm not seeing a clear line of what to do, for a number of reasons. I'm looking at a muddy picture. A bunch of little things I could do but no point of focus, no center of interest, as we say in design.
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april 28
Kids today in track ran like rain-burdened clouds. Movement took concerted effort. They didn't feel fast. I made a girl cry, for the first time in my coaching career.
april 23
I am cutting short my daily intake of German vocabulary to bring you this news: Van Gogh, the Reformation, Cezanne all connect. Paul Klee and Picasso too. My head is dizzy with these revelations. It's like finding out all your favorite musicians were friends with each other, or something like that.april 11
My neighbor writes books. Her daughter is studying book illustration. We talked about pursuing a life that makes art and creative writing while her husband gardened in the back yard. He yanked ivy out of unwanted places, rotated the compost, checked up on thirsty seedlings that seemed to be yawning from the flower boxes.
"I really struggle sometimes with defending the amount of time I take to write," she confessed. "Sometimes my friend comes at ten in the morning and I'm still in my bathrobe, writing at the computer. I must look so lazy to her."
My heart fell open to hear this. Only just last week had I painted in my pajamas for the very first time (I tend to be a slow bloomer in just about everything.) Here was a kindred spirit! She writes books for homeschooling publishers. She writes. She forgoes things that other women do, so she can write.
I am swamped with things right now. But all I want to do is make things. New things. Things that show there is joy in the world, because of our Father's love. Somehow I want to catch like a rare butterfly just a few of the amazing colors He has strewn across the hillsides this spring. I don't know why I do so many other things besides art, when really, that is what I am most compelled to do.
end of march
Serving the other
I’m so thankful for the weekly teaching at the swiss fellowship. Of course my whole week at the academy is focused on serving the missionary families and my fellow workers there. Yet when I’m not teaching there am I still willing to serve those around me? We are right across the parking lots from two senior citizen homes that I have never been in my entire time here. Lord forgive me. I haven’t entered into a single conversation with a panhandler in Basel. Lord forgive me. There’s a BFA graduate from last year named Missy. She’s this swirl of Scottish, American and German cultures. She works with homeless people now in Scotland, her sweet parents were saying. Of course we are all different parts of the body of Christ, right. I am confident I am the part that makes beautiful things. Pray that I’ll follow thru with my lesson plan scheduled for May. I and the students will offer mini-art workshops to the senior home residents. I’m scared I won’t follow thru but okay, here we go.
Practical matters
I feel so blessed to have pretty much everything I need to work on creative projects here. The practical hole is the picture is me driving. My goal is to be able to take the german liscening class by May 1. Plans are underway for a art exhibit, at which my Swiss friends can help contribute to this goal. I think they will be relieved not to have to shuttle the bus-missing missionary across the border anymore.
High society smirks
Even though the art history component of the art appreciation, I have a sneaking suspicion, is the part of my course the students dislike the upmost, I revel in it. The smirks of the Renaissance ladies; the docile stare of the rejected bride of Henry XIII; the glowing soft cheek of a Leonardo da Vinci Mary: when I select which art to talk with the students about, I feel like we are weaving the legacy of humans’ artistry into our plain vanilla lives. More spiritual questions come up in this class then in my other art-making ones. Pray that I’ll be diligant in studying God’s word and the legacy of saints gone before to be able to answer questions that students have asked so far. “Why study western art?” “Why do you like art?” “Why is art worth spending time on?”
***
Some kids are bursting with energy, almost as if they too would burst into a neon-yellow pussy willow if they could. Krista came literally skipping into art appreciation on Friday, the last day before break.
Her beginning brushstrokes jumped all over the perspective watercolor we had been working on. “I’m excited to go home, spend time with my family.” Not creatively spoken but to the point.
It
will be a little bit longer though before I can come home and do that. One of
the new interns asked if I felt like a missionary. Yes, I do. I feel always
in-between worlds. Sometimes its easy; now I sleep easily in new places. Others
times its hard – especially to go from the well-mannered brotherhood I find in
Basel to the klunky-don’t-even-say-Good-morning culture of some BFA staff that
is oh-so-American. When I feel like despairing from the see-saw tug, I remember
the pilgrim devotion by Brian Post, the middle school history teacher. He
reminded us that we are called to be pilgrims. So yes, here is where my nomadic
wanderings after our Lord have been taking me lately.
march 29
My crawl thru the uncompromising commands of the love chapters in Romans and 1 Peter reminds me of learning German. It is better to be hurt for doing good then to hurt because of doing something evil. There is no reason for doing wrong to another, and there is even more reason for doing good to one who does wrong. Like grammar rules that I must be reminded of again and again, so is it with the commands I can't get around in Romans 12-15 and 1 Peter.
The poor Swiss who have to hear me say "Ich habe gefahren" instead of "Ich bin gefahren" correct me again and again. Like saying "I am driven" instead of "I have driven". But anyways. Lord let me practice the vocabulary of your love more so then I am memorizing German words.
march 28
Audis seemed like they were going to jump over the little red import I was urging forward. The hills of the Swiss countryside were cute bumps of green. Tunnels pierced the not-so-cute hills in what seemed to me more an occassion for Swiss engineers to show off versus being really all that cost effective.
I am driving in Europe.
It took me nearly an hour with the green trams and buses of Basel to meet my friends at the airport. Once in their car it took me maybe 15 minutes to get back. Right, this is why people invented cars. It saves time. It carries things.

I sat on the morning bus from Basel to Kandern, unnoticed by these two sisters who make the trek everyday from the city to school at the academy. I so admire their willingness to make the hour commute everyday.
march 25
Neon green pussywillows, mud on my boots, my cheeks hot still from the day's sun: it is spring here, and I feel like waxing eloquent. Yet the practical realities of everyday life makes poetry a luxury and painting a queen's hobby. Life. Taxes. German. Getting along with others. Brushing my teeth. German.
"Why do you like art Miss Thompson?" Krista asked in class this week. I thought for a second. I hadn't really contemplated why before. Why in the world do I spend most of my energy, time and money on visual expression? And really it's not that I'm always painting. I'm just always looking forward to the next block of time that I can. I am entertained, challenged, spiritually encouraged, made to laugh by art. Can't exactly explain why.
"I think there's value in making beautiful things for others, just like God made the beauty of creation for us, " I said. And answers like that seem so unlogical at times. Did God command believers to make art?

Above: lanterns in the eaaaaarly morning parade called Morgenstreiche in Basel, shot by my friend Christof. It's the one time of year that the Swiss wear goofy costumes, paint political statements in artistic ways all over lighted hand-held floats, and play piccolos and drums at all hours of the day. Yep.
The Smasher of Imaginary Ideas
Germany and Switzerland are ten hours ahead of Alaska.
See how the dollar is doing.



