How many people are in my home?
Grandma and Grandpa, dogs and a gnome
Mom and Colleen and Dad at times
Joey an Courtney (minus dad) make nine.
Mug Shots of Who's Who in Wake Forest:
Monday, July 31, 2006
who's who.h
How many people are in my home?
Grandma and Grandpa, dogs and a gnome
Mom and Colleen and Dad at times
Joey an Courtney (minus dad) make nine.
Mug Shots of Who's Who in Wake Forest:
home
It's odd how I never write about place. In Chile I left all description of my environment to sporadic emails sent to my family. In July I sent my friends photographs of my family's new Wake Forest abode but failed to describe it in written word. I did the same for Georgia and Hilton Head, perhaps because I am a staunch believer in the adage "a picture is worth a thousand words." But, oh, how stronger a photograph is when butressed by the written language!
I am currently residing in Wake Forest, North Carolina. Apart from the desert San Pedro de Atacama in northern Chile, it's own of the most foreign places I've set foot in.
Let's do some compare and contrast 101.
St. Louis, Missouri, my hometown, is the 18th largest city in the United States with a population of over 2.7 million people (as of 2004). It has a lovely mixture of Civil War history with nice statues to commemorate it, national monuments (um, the Arch), good Anheuser-Busch beer, baseball fanatisism, and a pretty decent arts and music scene, spanning from classical to modern to british rock (MUSE!) To top it off, it boasts well over 15 varied, heterogenous suburbs with their own share of history, monuments, beer, baseball, and culture.
Wake Forest, North Carolina, my family's new hometown, is far from well-known, large, or important. Here's a diagram to orient you:
With a population of 20,000 and most of the houses hidden by sheets of skinny pine trees, it's sometimes difficult to even spot a house. It boasts three main roads: Capitol, Main Street, and Highway 401. The downtown is a hodgepodge of quaint tearooms, Southern antique stores, a Chevrolet museum, and a handful of restaurants.
Downtown ----->
(top: view of corner downtown;
middle: shack and pretty tree
next to the bank downtown; bottom: cool bridge)
St. Louis houses over 30 Starbucks and a myriad of locally owned coffeehouses, not to metion Kaldi's, Kayak Coffee, and Cuppa Jo, to name a few. Wake Forest boasts 1 Starbucks (which is technically in northern Raleigh) and a suspicious "religious" coffehouse called "The Well" which provides "good fellowship" with each iced latte. It's good for quiet times but doesn't have the most exctiting atmosphere.
One of the biggest differences, as so astutely discoverd by Joseph S. Madden, is with the street names...which are normal, if not somewhat classy, in St. Louis. Washington Avenue, the Page Extension, Ladue Road, Creve Couer, Old Bonhomme, Clayton, and the like. Many names are French and don't allude to any specific object. Last names are of people are prevalent (I lived on Schulte Hill Drive, for example, whose namesake was an old patient of my mother's). Names here allude to natural objects and animals or are just plain odd. Gross, Bratt Street, Reindeer Moss, Stacked Stone, and Falls of Neuse Road among the butt of our STL guests' jokes.
And St. Louis food is...to...die...for. Home of the Gooey butter cake, Provel cheese, Imo's pizza, Ted Drewes Frozen Custard, Toasted Ravioli, Vess soda, and STL style barbeque, it also boasts Thai, Vietnamese, Chinese, Lebanese, Mexican, Brazilian, French, Italian, and Spanish cuisine. Wake Forest does boast a few good restaraunts, that are by no means eclectic or foreign but nonetheless solid. Twisted Forks, Milton's Pizza and Pasta, and Las Margaritas are among my personal favorites. Like any good ol' Southern town, it has plenty of Bojangles--home of sweet "tay" and and chicken biscuits.
I hope that over the next few weeks I will discover the history of Wake Forest along with little treasures of singularity here and there. The history is by no means stellar but is interesting, as I try to imagine what it would be like to grow up in the 10-year-old town before the Civil War. It was founded in 1820 by Dr. Calvin Jones. He advertised the community in the local paper as:
The town grew up around Wake Forest College, which relocated to Winston-Salem in 1956 (hence the confusion among my WS friends) and sold the campus to the Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary.
Oh, and it also grew up around railroad tracks that are still here. I've had to stop for trains several times this summer.
I suppose I'll go to Raleigh more to regain a city flavor.
I am currently residing in Wake Forest, North Carolina. Apart from the desert San Pedro de Atacama in northern Chile, it's own of the most foreign places I've set foot in.
Let's do some compare and contrast 101.
St. Louis, Missouri, my hometown, is the 18th largest city in the United States with a population of over 2.7 million people (as of 2004). It has a lovely mixture of Civil War history with nice statues to commemorate it, national monuments (um, the Arch), good Anheuser-Busch beer, baseball fanatisism, and a pretty decent arts and music scene, spanning from classical to modern to british rock (MUSE!) To top it off, it boasts well over 15 varied, heterogenous suburbs with their own share of history, monuments, beer, baseball, and culture. Wake Forest, North Carolina, my family's new hometown, is far from well-known, large, or important. Here's a diagram to orient you:
With a population of 20,000 and most of the houses hidden by sheets of skinny pine trees, it's sometimes difficult to even spot a house. It boasts three main roads: Capitol, Main Street, and Highway 401. The downtown is a hodgepodge of quaint tearooms, Southern antique stores, a Chevrolet museum, and a handful of restaurants.
Downtown ----->
(top: view of corner downtown;
middle: shack and pretty tree
next to the bank downtown; bottom: cool bridge)
St. Louis houses over 30 Starbucks and a myriad of locally owned coffeehouses, not to metion Kaldi's, Kayak Coffee, and Cuppa Jo, to name a few. Wake Forest boasts 1 Starbucks (which is technically in northern Raleigh) and a suspicious "religious" coffehouse called "The Well" which provides "good fellowship" with each iced latte. It's good for quiet times but doesn't have the most exctiting atmosphere.
One of the biggest differences, as so astutely discoverd by Joseph S. Madden, is with the street names...which are normal, if not somewhat classy, in St. Louis. Washington Avenue, the Page Extension, Ladue Road, Creve Couer, Old Bonhomme, Clayton, and the like. Many names are French and don't allude to any specific object. Last names are of people are prevalent (I lived on Schulte Hill Drive, for example, whose namesake was an old patient of my mother's). Names here allude to natural objects and animals or are just plain odd. Gross, Bratt Street, Reindeer Moss, Stacked Stone, and Falls of Neuse Road among the butt of our STL guests' jokes.
And St. Louis food is...to...die...for. Home of the Gooey butter cake, Provel cheese, Imo's pizza, Ted Drewes Frozen Custard, Toasted Ravioli, Vess soda, and STL style barbeque, it also boasts Thai, Vietnamese, Chinese, Lebanese, Mexican, Brazilian, French, Italian, and Spanish cuisine. Wake Forest does boast a few good restaraunts, that are by no means eclectic or foreign but nonetheless solid. Twisted Forks, Milton's Pizza and Pasta, and Las Margaritas are among my personal favorites. Like any good ol' Southern town, it has plenty of Bojangles--home of sweet "tay" and and chicken biscuits.
I hope that over the next few weeks I will discover the history of Wake Forest along with little treasures of singularity here and there. The history is by no means stellar but is interesting, as I try to imagine what it would be like to grow up in the 10-year-old town before the Civil War. It was founded in 1820 by Dr. Calvin Jones. He advertised the community in the local paper as:
"One of the best neighborhoods in the state, the Forest District containing three schools and two well constructed and well filled meeting houses for Baptists and Methodists, and has a lawyer and a doctor. The inhabitants...are sober, moral and thriving in their circumstances, and not a few are educated and intelligent."
The town grew up around Wake Forest College, which relocated to Winston-Salem in 1956 (hence the confusion among my WS friends) and sold the campus to the Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary.
Oh, and it also grew up around railroad tracks that are still here. I've had to stop for trains several times this summer.
I suppose I'll go to Raleigh more to regain a city flavor.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
p.s.
this is in reference to my last post...something I didn't really make clear:
regaining your sense of wonder entails a transformation of thinking, not translocation. You don't have to move to Easter Island or the heart of a flourishing city. (It is just my personal priority that I see the whole world). In theory traveling sounds like a way to inundate yourself with new cultures and ideas, but it is possible to travel completely hostile to newness. (i.e. go to a nice resort and sit on the beach for a week, not that it isn't relaxing).
It's better to make yourself and open book. While my conservative religious upbringing has inculcated in me a susupicion of relativism, multiculturalism, and tolerance, I think these values are more than black and white. I think you can have and open mind, welcome new ideas, new cultures, and new lifestyles withtout losing your core identity and strongest beliefs. I can believe in God and be rooted in Christ's work for me but still be open to what's going on in my community, in the nation, and in the world. Ha, as Christians we're CALLED to be aware and intellectually active! It's strange that so many eschew this.
regaining your sense of wonder entails a transformation of thinking, not translocation. You don't have to move to Easter Island or the heart of a flourishing city. (It is just my personal priority that I see the whole world). In theory traveling sounds like a way to inundate yourself with new cultures and ideas, but it is possible to travel completely hostile to newness. (i.e. go to a nice resort and sit on the beach for a week, not that it isn't relaxing).
It's better to make yourself and open book. While my conservative religious upbringing has inculcated in me a susupicion of relativism, multiculturalism, and tolerance, I think these values are more than black and white. I think you can have and open mind, welcome new ideas, new cultures, and new lifestyles withtout losing your core identity and strongest beliefs. I can believe in God and be rooted in Christ's work for me but still be open to what's going on in my community, in the nation, and in the world. Ha, as Christians we're CALLED to be aware and intellectually active! It's strange that so many eschew this.
antigravity
I wonder at what point in this lifetime we lose our sense of wonder. Babies shove things in their mouths, tasting the world. Two-year olds grab anything and everything in sight, touching the world. Teenagers listen to sonorous music until their eardrums have disappeared altoghether, hearing the world. But it are the three-year olds who use all of their senses and reach for that sixth sense of understanding. They probe and inquire, challenging adults out of their complacency. Why should we be at ease in the suburbs? Why don't men fly? Why are spiders "scary" but puppies "cute?" Is it society that forms these prejudices, or are the characteristics inherenty in their chemistry that make spiders scary and puppies cute? Why? From whence? How?
Last summer I realized that I no longer enjoyed myself at waterparks. When I was eleven I stopped writing twisted short-stories based off of the adventures of my Barbie dolls. I think I began to lose my sense of wonder when I stopped using all of my senses...when I stopped creating things with my hands, when I started conceiving things with my mind, and when I stopped playing outside.
I have a deep-seated hatred for complacency...perhaps because I sense its stench in my own being. Routine, living comofortably, shopping at Wal-mart, and then thinking that this is all there is. A life of habit. Why don't we care more about what's happening in Lebanon? Why don't we read books about Hezbollah? Why don't we star-gaze and ponder the heavens?
What if there really are unchartered waters and undiscovered islands yet to be mapped out on the globe? What if Science really isn't the end-all-be-all in explanations for the cosmos?
Living in Wake Forest, North Carolina--away from the university, away from the city, and away from traditional learning--has nourished a desire within me to regain my sense of wonder. To slough off complacency, to know that there IS a larger, dangerous, beautiful and ugly world out there that is waiting for me. Both tangibly and philosophically...I've gotten too comfortable with my own preconceived notions of "what is" and "why it is" and I want to go back and challenge those notions.
Think like a child and don't take for granted that the sun will rise every morning.
Last summer I realized that I no longer enjoyed myself at waterparks. When I was eleven I stopped writing twisted short-stories based off of the adventures of my Barbie dolls. I think I began to lose my sense of wonder when I stopped using all of my senses...when I stopped creating things with my hands, when I started conceiving things with my mind, and when I stopped playing outside.
I have a deep-seated hatred for complacency...perhaps because I sense its stench in my own being. Routine, living comofortably, shopping at Wal-mart, and then thinking that this is all there is. A life of habit. Why don't we care more about what's happening in Lebanon? Why don't we read books about Hezbollah? Why don't we star-gaze and ponder the heavens?
What if there really are unchartered waters and undiscovered islands yet to be mapped out on the globe? What if Science really isn't the end-all-be-all in explanations for the cosmos?
Living in Wake Forest, North Carolina--away from the university, away from the city, and away from traditional learning--has nourished a desire within me to regain my sense of wonder. To slough off complacency, to know that there IS a larger, dangerous, beautiful and ugly world out there that is waiting for me. Both tangibly and philosophically...I've gotten too comfortable with my own preconceived notions of "what is" and "why it is" and I want to go back and challenge those notions.
Think like a child and don't take for granted that the sun will rise every morning.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
ings
regrettably, I have not written as much as I would ideally like. At times when i wake up in the morning all I can think about is writing, but for some strange reason I treat the impulse as a mosquito instead of a good desire. I guess i think more about writing than i actually write, which is the great difference between me--on and off, hot and cold--and a flourishing, successful novelist. Sometimes I think that writing would be my ideal dream job...if only i could find something to write about...something other than myself. Even my latest "novel" is based on random high school experiences...things that I really want to get down on paper, but things that I wish I had created in my own imagination.
I think I might give J53--Newswriting--a whirl this semester. Most people complain about the workload, but I figure if I treat the class as I would a hobby, it might become something enjoyable. There's something weird about the 'scholastic' psychology that makes me hate work when I have to do it.
Writing has a particular, specialized function in my life. Some people use it as a therapy, a means to bolster their self-esteem and justify their actions. )I have dabbled in this, but it only leaves a deeper hole). Some people use it to communicate--journalists, teachers, lovers, but I don't really care about who reads my writing. Some people use it to make sense of the world...they write things down and work with it until it makes sense and the world makes sense and their realizations come to life. Intellectuals, experts, philosophers. And some people write just because they're bored with the world and would rather create their own world. I might be straddling the latter two, partiallly, but I think I use writing as a primary means to understand my own psychology. I write when I discover things about myself and the world--physical and spiritual-- and how I relate to it
On a completely different note, When a Man Loves a Woman is my new favorite movie.
I laughed a lot today. I don't think I've laughed this much in at least a year. I'd like to think that I was always the one to make my big sister laugh when i was little, but I think that nowadays she makes me laugh more. Maybe it's just the bizarre chemistry between us when we reminisce over childhoods oddities...we share a history and our quirkiness and wonderful sense of humor comes out more when we're together. at any rate, it was good tonight. Colleen's joeie de vivre is golden bright and fills the house when she's making dinner and chatting and even playing the harp. At any rate, it's good to laugh.
I think I might give J53--Newswriting--a whirl this semester. Most people complain about the workload, but I figure if I treat the class as I would a hobby, it might become something enjoyable. There's something weird about the 'scholastic' psychology that makes me hate work when I have to do it.
Writing has a particular, specialized function in my life. Some people use it as a therapy, a means to bolster their self-esteem and justify their actions. )I have dabbled in this, but it only leaves a deeper hole). Some people use it to communicate--journalists, teachers, lovers, but I don't really care about who reads my writing. Some people use it to make sense of the world...they write things down and work with it until it makes sense and the world makes sense and their realizations come to life. Intellectuals, experts, philosophers. And some people write just because they're bored with the world and would rather create their own world. I might be straddling the latter two, partiallly, but I think I use writing as a primary means to understand my own psychology. I write when I discover things about myself and the world--physical and spiritual-- and how I relate to it
On a completely different note, When a Man Loves a Woman is my new favorite movie.
I laughed a lot today. I don't think I've laughed this much in at least a year. I'd like to think that I was always the one to make my big sister laugh when i was little, but I think that nowadays she makes me laugh more. Maybe it's just the bizarre chemistry between us when we reminisce over childhoods oddities...we share a history and our quirkiness and wonderful sense of humor comes out more when we're together. at any rate, it was good tonight. Colleen's joeie de vivre is golden bright and fills the house when she's making dinner and chatting and even playing the harp. At any rate, it's good to laugh.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
eureka
I was in Savannah for five and half days visiting Laura Fletcher, a fellow Christian and a prototypical friend. She embodies true godliness and I learn so much from her--not just in daily conversation but in the nitty gritty ways of life. She is authentic and real...I don't have to worry what she's thinking about and we can just sit and enjoy the solitude of a South Carolinian road trip. Those five days were wondeful for the time spent with her. I have returned refreshed with my heart redirected towards God's promises.
"Eureka" moment from the weekend: God is good. My hope for the present and future are rooted in what Christ has already done on the cross. I have been trying, and failing, to "fix" my sinful heart and come close to God on my own...which is futile, though that does not negate the importance of human responsibility or repentence. The unhappiness and dark depression of the past year are rooted in my stubborness and unwillingness to submit to God. Because I could only sense His powerful justice, I lived my life with a sense of foreboding guilt and self-flagellation. Why couldn't I "live up" to God's perfection? Why did I keep on screwing up? Why did no one love ME? Why did no one make ME happy?
For once, I have pondered this: what if the solution to all of my woes is not the vast improving of outward circumstances and relationships, but a redirected heart? What if I didn't NEED others' constant affection and approval to function in life? What if I didn't NEED to be happy?
Instead, I should be asking this: How can I embody God's perfection and holiness, keeping in mind that I fall short but not letting that conquer me? How can I keep on repenting when I screw up? How can I love God and others? How can I make others happy?
God is the reason I am joyful today. He is the reason that I'm not sitting on the dorm room floor crying, or meticulously crafting the "perfect" class schedule, or screaming at my parents. And what blows my mind is that I was DOING all of these things and wallowing in a world of meaninglessness that I had crafted--with the help of the world and the flesh and the devil--God SAVED me. He started to draw me back to Him even though I was writhing and biting and thrashing and clawing. It's like this:
In other words: 1. With consistence and persistence, i was living in sin. I created all sorts of idols for myself in high school...things like Experience and Individualism and Perfection that led to things like rebellion, depression, and problems with eating. These sinful tendencies are still there, but the difference is where my trust lays. The spiritual realm is very real and powerful, on both sides.
2. Such sinful living is universal. It is obviously manifested in different ways, but it is there nonetheless.
3. While I was still sinning God SAVED me because of His love. I didn't even want to turn to Him, but His love for me is not contingent upon my actions.
4. I died and was resurrected with Christ! He already knew where my struggles and failures would be, and he died with those specific things branded black on his flesh and then was raised without them. That's the importance of the resurrection! Christians are resurrected WITH Christ.
5. God is good; everything good is a result of God's grace. My purpose in life is to "do good works" only BECAUSE i am God's workmanship. not IN ORDER TO BE His child!
Glory be to God! Pray that God will continue to reveal His purpose for me and His goodness and love. Pray that I can persist in faith.
"Eureka" moment from the weekend: God is good. My hope for the present and future are rooted in what Christ has already done on the cross. I have been trying, and failing, to "fix" my sinful heart and come close to God on my own...which is futile, though that does not negate the importance of human responsibility or repentence. The unhappiness and dark depression of the past year are rooted in my stubborness and unwillingness to submit to God. Because I could only sense His powerful justice, I lived my life with a sense of foreboding guilt and self-flagellation. Why couldn't I "live up" to God's perfection? Why did I keep on screwing up? Why did no one love ME? Why did no one make ME happy?
For once, I have pondered this: what if the solution to all of my woes is not the vast improving of outward circumstances and relationships, but a redirected heart? What if I didn't NEED others' constant affection and approval to function in life? What if I didn't NEED to be happy?
Instead, I should be asking this: How can I embody God's perfection and holiness, keeping in mind that I fall short but not letting that conquer me? How can I keep on repenting when I screw up? How can I love God and others? How can I make others happy?
God is the reason I am joyful today. He is the reason that I'm not sitting on the dorm room floor crying, or meticulously crafting the "perfect" class schedule, or screaming at my parents. And what blows my mind is that I was DOING all of these things and wallowing in a world of meaninglessness that I had crafted--with the help of the world and the flesh and the devil--God SAVED me. He started to draw me back to Him even though I was writhing and biting and thrashing and clawing. It's like this:
1. As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient.
2. All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our sinful nature[a] and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature objects of wrath.
3. But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, 5made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.
4. And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus.
5. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.
Ephesians 2: 5-10
In other words: 1. With consistence and persistence, i was living in sin. I created all sorts of idols for myself in high school...things like Experience and Individualism and Perfection that led to things like rebellion, depression, and problems with eating. These sinful tendencies are still there, but the difference is where my trust lays. The spiritual realm is very real and powerful, on both sides.
2. Such sinful living is universal. It is obviously manifested in different ways, but it is there nonetheless.
3. While I was still sinning God SAVED me because of His love. I didn't even want to turn to Him, but His love for me is not contingent upon my actions.
4. I died and was resurrected with Christ! He already knew where my struggles and failures would be, and he died with those specific things branded black on his flesh and then was raised without them. That's the importance of the resurrection! Christians are resurrected WITH Christ.
5. God is good; everything good is a result of God's grace. My purpose in life is to "do good works" only BECAUSE i am God's workmanship. not IN ORDER TO BE His child!
Glory be to God! Pray that God will continue to reveal His purpose for me and His goodness and love. Pray that I can persist in faith.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
backgrounds
I NEED TO LEARN HTML!
gah.
i can't change the background color to black on the html template. i want this template, only with white text and a black background.
gah.
advice?
gah.
i can't change the background color to black on the html template. i want this template, only with white text and a black background.
gah.
advice?
Saturday, July 08, 2006
hitchin a ride
that's the name of the song i'm listening to right now as I let my windows media player randomly select songs out of a couple thousand songs buried in my computer's library. i have no idea who sings it. i don't particularly like it, either.
12:04 has rolled around. If i were a chilean I would be going to a discoteca right now, as everything opens at midnight. Maybe at heart I am chilean with regards to my night-owlship. I am at my peak at midnight. It's when my creative juices are rapidly flowing...I can spit out an eloquent greek history paper, i can read something and understand it with much more clarity...it's when i enjoy whatever state I am in: the moments of solitude are enjoyed ten-fold, the online conversations are multiplied by three and last three times as long, the physical companionship is drawn out until three or four a.m. (when joe or colleen or julie or carolyn or laura or any of my friends are at my side...tangibly). If I could choose, I would do everything at night. I would create a lifestyle conducive to the night...waking up at sunset and going to sleep right after sunrise. Why bother with oppressive heat and noise and traffic? Even the colors are overexposed...photography is much more practical at sunrise, sunset...and much more intruiging at night. night runs and night dips in the lake and night conversations on the rooftop. duh, they wouldn't happen every evening...but when compared to high noon runs (=heat exhaustion, death) and high noon dips in the lake (=exposed, vigilant, sun-burned) and high noon lunch conversations (=hurried, rushed, long lines), the night is preferable. nights are when daytime hermits grow into butterflies.
and so for now, i will continue sitting on the screened in porch with my windows media players selecting songs for my listening. i will continue editing photos of chicken salad and millipedes and little boys' rosy cheeks. and maybe when i feel like leaving the porch, i will finish book number nine.
12:04 has rolled around. If i were a chilean I would be going to a discoteca right now, as everything opens at midnight. Maybe at heart I am chilean with regards to my night-owlship. I am at my peak at midnight. It's when my creative juices are rapidly flowing...I can spit out an eloquent greek history paper, i can read something and understand it with much more clarity...it's when i enjoy whatever state I am in: the moments of solitude are enjoyed ten-fold, the online conversations are multiplied by three and last three times as long, the physical companionship is drawn out until three or four a.m. (when joe or colleen or julie or carolyn or laura or any of my friends are at my side...tangibly). If I could choose, I would do everything at night. I would create a lifestyle conducive to the night...waking up at sunset and going to sleep right after sunrise. Why bother with oppressive heat and noise and traffic? Even the colors are overexposed...photography is much more practical at sunrise, sunset...and much more intruiging at night. night runs and night dips in the lake and night conversations on the rooftop. duh, they wouldn't happen every evening...but when compared to high noon runs (=heat exhaustion, death) and high noon dips in the lake (=exposed, vigilant, sun-burned) and high noon lunch conversations (=hurried, rushed, long lines), the night is preferable. nights are when daytime hermits grow into butterflies.
and so for now, i will continue sitting on the screened in porch with my windows media players selecting songs for my listening. i will continue editing photos of chicken salad and millipedes and little boys' rosy cheeks. and maybe when i feel like leaving the porch, i will finish book number nine.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
sundays
this will be short and narrative-like (for once) because i want to read my book, Bee Season.
Today was good. Today and yesterday coupled together were good, actually. I went to Christ Community for the first time in well over a month and a half, and it was so refreshing seeing every one again...Mary, Camilo, Sarah, Julie, Lizbeth Swayne, etc. Many members of this church feel like family members, even though i haven't spent loads of time with any single individual, save Laura and possibly Lizbeth Swayne. Maybe it's just the warmth and their candidness that creates that 'homey' environment. whenever I go to church i feel like my mind is cleared and 'reset,' and all the darkness is dispelled. Sometimes I wonder what heaven will be like...i'm 'refreshed' only one day a week, sometimes less if i'm lazy and bogged down...what will it be like to be perpetually renewed while basking in God's glory?
Anyways, I finally got to catch up with Meagan after church and we spent the afternoon on Franklin Street at UNC. That too, felt like home...eating at familiar restaurants, walking through UNC's beautiful upper quad and the arboretum, ending at Starbucks for some much-needed (free) water after battling the oppresive north carolina humidity. It was fun to dream a little bit; Meagan is the notorious planner and optimist and we started discussing study-abroad and getting apartments (and a dog? umm...agh?) junior year. She initiated it...but you know, it's fun to dream a bit. except for the dog. we'll have to see...
Then i went to work (work=no pay, no recognition, nada) at the DTH to write my captions. I was pretty pleased with this batch of photos. I shot the Hillsborough Last Friday festival, and it's quite fulfilling as a photographer to see things that i learned in Chile/J80/the morehead workshop spill over into my work...naturally and subconsciously. I'm back in the 'groove' with photojournalism again (screw Keena's advice about ncstate...bah) and am liking that i can control my camera and photo situations pretty well, compared to january when i was clueless. and it sounds cheezy and insincere, but i sincerely mean it when i say i am excited about what the next semester brings with photo-j. the work is really fulfilling. and i like macs.
we had another family meal tonight. afterwards i curled up in my grandpa's chair and read a bit and dabbled in sudoku while my dad perused through the washington post and my grandpa edited old poetry. it was really cozy and nice...how long has it been since i actually sat in the same room with my dad, let alone my grandpa? and reading instead of tv...when did this happen???? :)
at any rate, i'm thinking that this lack of a job thing might not be so bad after all. i'm finding (productive) ways to keep busy, and as hard as it is for me to not rely on school to dictate structure, i think it is important to learn how to rest. besides, i've got dozens of books waiting for me.
I'll end this here. I wonder what i'll do tomorrow.
Today was good. Today and yesterday coupled together were good, actually. I went to Christ Community for the first time in well over a month and a half, and it was so refreshing seeing every one again...Mary, Camilo, Sarah, Julie, Lizbeth Swayne, etc. Many members of this church feel like family members, even though i haven't spent loads of time with any single individual, save Laura and possibly Lizbeth Swayne. Maybe it's just the warmth and their candidness that creates that 'homey' environment. whenever I go to church i feel like my mind is cleared and 'reset,' and all the darkness is dispelled. Sometimes I wonder what heaven will be like...i'm 'refreshed' only one day a week, sometimes less if i'm lazy and bogged down...what will it be like to be perpetually renewed while basking in God's glory?
Anyways, I finally got to catch up with Meagan after church and we spent the afternoon on Franklin Street at UNC. That too, felt like home...eating at familiar restaurants, walking through UNC's beautiful upper quad and the arboretum, ending at Starbucks for some much-needed (free) water after battling the oppresive north carolina humidity. It was fun to dream a little bit; Meagan is the notorious planner and optimist and we started discussing study-abroad and getting apartments (and a dog? umm...agh?) junior year. She initiated it...but you know, it's fun to dream a bit. except for the dog. we'll have to see...
Then i went to work (work=no pay, no recognition, nada) at the DTH to write my captions. I was pretty pleased with this batch of photos. I shot the Hillsborough Last Friday festival, and it's quite fulfilling as a photographer to see things that i learned in Chile/J80/the morehead workshop spill over into my work...naturally and subconsciously. I'm back in the 'groove' with photojournalism again (screw Keena's advice about ncstate...bah) and am liking that i can control my camera and photo situations pretty well, compared to january when i was clueless. and it sounds cheezy and insincere, but i sincerely mean it when i say i am excited about what the next semester brings with photo-j. the work is really fulfilling. and i like macs.
we had another family meal tonight. afterwards i curled up in my grandpa's chair and read a bit and dabbled in sudoku while my dad perused through the washington post and my grandpa edited old poetry. it was really cozy and nice...how long has it been since i actually sat in the same room with my dad, let alone my grandpa? and reading instead of tv...when did this happen???? :)
at any rate, i'm thinking that this lack of a job thing might not be so bad after all. i'm finding (productive) ways to keep busy, and as hard as it is for me to not rely on school to dictate structure, i think it is important to learn how to rest. besides, i've got dozens of books waiting for me.
I'll end this here. I wonder what i'll do tomorrow.
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