It's time.
I just ordered two lenses for my digital SLR. Granted, they are relatively cheap and won't last me very long professionally speaking, but they'll work just fine.
I've taken three weeks off from photography. It wasn't really planned, but I was so burned out after one of the most grueling semesters ever, photo-wise. Plus, I had to turn in all of the J-school's camera equipment (which is, usually, one of the saddest days of the year! thousands of dollars worth of beautiful equipment at my fingertips for (essentially) free. It's one of the wonderful things about Carolina's photojournalism program...there is so much money circulating that school!) Anyways, so come summer vacation, and I have no good equipment, one broken lens, and a really exhausted artistic spirit. That equals...a photo hiatus.
It was definitely a good thing for me...much needed. But right now I am looking at Women in Photojournalism best of show photographs...beautiful, inspiring art, and I am wanting so badly to just take pictures. To get back at it.
Photography is like poetry for me. I wish I could be a song-writer or the next William Carlos Williams, but I just don't have the gift for that. I want to immerse myself in a world of beauty and contrasts, in a world slowed down by the quick opening and closing of my camera's shutter.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
goodbye, may. hello, june
Oh dear, it's nearly June. One month of my summer has nearly passed, and I don't have much to show for it. A nice tan-line, a vintage dress, and one 1000-piece puzzle. I have enjoyed the time to just read (I finished Harry Potter books 5 and 6, Life of Pi, and have picked at Mere Christianity, and various Christian lit). But my wandering spirit is screaming to go discover some new place and challenge myself socially.
This past year has been filled with such exciting adventures: hanging out with boarding school students in Chile, swimming with a river-shrimper in Peru, getting hit-on by a 72-year old Indian Chief in Cherokee, N.C. (ha!), ending my teenage years with a bang on a bus in Panama, when the clock struck midnight...sigh. I guess those were the cross-cultural adventures, although I'm forgetting all over the wonderful hidden secrets of UNC, of solidifying meaningful relationships with unsuspecting fol
ks, of
discovering rope-swing trees and magical places in the woods, of delving deeper into photojournalism and, concomitantly, the larger Chapel Hill/Triangle community. I suppose this is me in hindsight, romanticizing the past year's experiences. Oh, but I am so thankful for them!
Ben told me in one of our last talks of the semester that he hoped I had a boring year, for a change. (Based on current circumstances, I wonder if he is a prophet?) (I am kidding). I do see the merit of suddenly having no obligations...it's such a hard thing for me, since I sort of thrive on the External. But it's pushing me to pray more and working out my salvation in practical terms. I'm not doing too well at loving my family and keeping myself immersed in community, but that pushes me to rely on God's grace all the more. I guess I have all sorts of time to experience my own stench and waywardness...a state of sin and misery that can easily go unnoticed when I'm doing all sorts of things at school. (Not that doing things is bad...we're called to be part of community and to love others). I guess this is what Ben was thinking of when we had that discussion about my immediate future/decision-making.
Well, I will be very excited to start school in the fall...UNITAS is going to be really challenging but quite excitng, I hope. It will bring those international travles right to my living space. I didn't want to do it for awhile after I got accepted, but now I'm warming up drastically to the program. Yay for theme housing. Yay for diversity.
This past year has been filled with such exciting adventures: hanging out with boarding school students in Chile, swimming with a river-shrimper in Peru, getting hit-on by a 72-year old Indian Chief in Cherokee, N.C. (ha!), ending my teenage years with a bang on a bus in Panama, when the clock struck midnight...sigh. I guess those were the cross-cultural adventures, although I'm forgetting all over the wonderful hidden secrets of UNC, of solidifying meaningful relationships with unsuspecting fol
ks, of
discovering rope-swing trees and magical places in the woods, of delving deeper into photojournalism and, concomitantly, the larger Chapel Hill/Triangle community. I suppose this is me in hindsight, romanticizing the past year's experiences. Oh, but I am so thankful for them!Ben told me in one of our last talks of the semester that he hoped I had a boring year, for a change. (Based on current circumstances, I wonder if he is a prophet?) (I am kidding). I do see the merit of suddenly having no obligations...it's such a hard thing for me, since I sort of thrive on the External. But it's pushing me to pray more and working out my salvation in practical terms. I'm not doing too well at loving my family and keeping myself immersed in community, but that pushes me to rely on God's grace all the more. I guess I have all sorts of time to experience my own stench and waywardness...a state of sin and misery that can easily go unnoticed when I'm doing all sorts of things at school. (Not that doing things is bad...we're called to be part of community and to love others). I guess this is what Ben was thinking of when we had that discussion about my immediate future/decision-making.
Well, I will be very excited to start school in the fall...UNITAS is going to be really challenging but quite excitng, I hope. It will bring those international travles right to my living space. I didn't want to do it for awhile after I got accepted, but now I'm warming up drastically to the program. Yay for theme housing. Yay for diversity.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
vanity
I'd like to get a nose ring. On my left-side. I still can't bring myself to do it...I can't think of a good enough reason, other than "it's cute" and "I'm bored with my pierced ears." I guess it's one of those things where you can't really come up with an "original" reason to jump on the bandwagon.
today's mood--->
I finished the 5th Harry Potter book today. I'm really excited about the new book and the new movie...ahhhh. It's one of those nice pleasures that you forget about while your studying "real" things at the University. But Harry Potter is wicked.
I guess that concludes this post. I don't have any profound thoughts of the day. It's just been a pleasant, lazy summer afternoon. Oh, and I made afternoon scones today. Tomorrow I think I might make a summer squash medley and ride my bike to the pool.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
green cotton dress
I'm wearing a green cotton dress right now. I couldn't find a nightgown, but I really wanted to wear something freeing and flowy before I went to sleep. I'm in my room, as usual. It's been a nice cave of sorts the past three days...I read, sleep, nap, watch old movies, nap some more, etc. in here. I didn't leave it once yesterday except to run around the neighborhood and release pent-up energy/frustration.
Summer is frustrating. I feel like a high school student at home...my room is a shrine to my high school self with all it's pictures and dangling medals and high school english lit books. I want to be an adult, but for now I'm just an "adult" (not sans quotations yet): jobless, dependent on my family for money/food/shelter/loving. As far as the job situation goes...it's weird how God has changed my plans. I wasted so much of second semester not just applying for photojournalism internships at newspapers, but worrying about it! Then when that fell through and I no longer wanted to be a full-fledged, independent photojournalist for three months (the thought frightens me terribly), my back-up job with Ami fell through. And now...my high school self wants to find at a coffeeshop or as a nanny, but my professional, "adult"-like self is telling me to get a job doing photography. A real job. Hmm...I don't think it's bad to want to work at a clothing store or a restaurant. I'm having a huge mental/spiritual fight against what journalism professors spend all semester telling us: "You're not a worthy person if you get a "normal" job. You don't want to be working at McDonalds over the summer when you could be honing your skills and working at a newspaper. Internships! Internships!" Gah. I could have had a "worthy" job this summer, but I turned it down. And now I don't have any job, yet, and I am anxious.
Wow, it's crazy how much of my security I place in my work and expectations for the future...something that's not even real! I feel like a different person at home...without the photojournalism classes, photojournalism talk, intense projects, obligatory career nights, Daily Tar Heel assignments. I'm suddenly not engaged on all those future-oriented tasks...and it's good, even though it's hard. In a way, it''s strangely liberating. So liberating that I don't know what to do with myself. (This is not a good feeling, I must admit). I guess it's like...say you were in outerspace in a tiny, confined spaceship for a year. You would get uesd to the obvious boundaries and limitations. You would be comfortable up there, used to your routine. When you come back to earth, you suddenly have an entire world at your feet. You can swim in the vast ocean, you can run a marathon, you can go to the Great Wall of China. The freedom can be paralyzing...you don't know what to do first. The way you defined yourself in space (i.e. based on your surroundings) cannot be applied to Earth. Since you have a different externals, different limitations, you define yourself differently. It's almost like you have to start all over.
The transition from college campus to home can be like that, I guess. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, I love reading and relaxing, I love being outside. But I also love being on campus, involved in meaningful work, surrounded by friends and tons of interesting strangers...dying to get a glimpse into their lives. I have different boundaries there, and I make many decisions based on my aspirations with photojournalism. But those boundaries don't apply to home, and photojournalism is pretty much absent here. It's not a smooth transition.
Yes, so obviously I AM the same person. And I know that my identity is only found in Christ: me dwelling in Him, and Him in me. But how does this play out practically? Practically, I let work, friends, external environment, external boundaries define who I am. I don't like that. I know it's human...we all have our own idols. And it's a horrid thing. All I can do is repent and pray that God infiltrates all aspects of my life. I guess that's why it's a good thing that I'm not doing some intense photo-related thing this summer: because I have put so much of my trust and comfort in that, and it's not even real!
Hmm, I haven't completed my thoughts on the matter. And I haven't attained a level of peace yet, but that's fine.
I'm going to go finish Harry Potter 5 and listen to some Derek Webb. In my green cotton dress, in my cave, before I sleep.
Summer is frustrating. I feel like a high school student at home...my room is a shrine to my high school self with all it's pictures and dangling medals and high school english lit books. I want to be an adult, but for now I'm just an "adult" (not sans quotations yet): jobless, dependent on my family for money/food/shelter/loving. As far as the job situation goes...it's weird how God has changed my plans. I wasted so much of second semester not just applying for photojournalism internships at newspapers, but worrying about it! Then when that fell through and I no longer wanted to be a full-fledged, independent photojournalist for three months (the thought frightens me terribly), my back-up job with Ami fell through. And now...my high school self wants to find at a coffeeshop or as a nanny, but my professional, "adult"-like self is telling me to get a job doing photography. A real job. Hmm...I don't think it's bad to want to work at a clothing store or a restaurant. I'm having a huge mental/spiritual fight against what journalism professors spend all semester telling us: "You're not a worthy person if you get a "normal" job. You don't want to be working at McDonalds over the summer when you could be honing your skills and working at a newspaper. Internships! Internships!" Gah. I could have had a "worthy" job this summer, but I turned it down. And now I don't have any job, yet, and I am anxious.
Wow, it's crazy how much of my security I place in my work and expectations for the future...something that's not even real! I feel like a different person at home...without the photojournalism classes, photojournalism talk, intense projects, obligatory career nights, Daily Tar Heel assignments. I'm suddenly not engaged on all those future-oriented tasks...and it's good, even though it's hard. In a way, it''s strangely liberating. So liberating that I don't know what to do with myself. (This is not a good feeling, I must admit). I guess it's like...say you were in outerspace in a tiny, confined spaceship for a year. You would get uesd to the obvious boundaries and limitations. You would be comfortable up there, used to your routine. When you come back to earth, you suddenly have an entire world at your feet. You can swim in the vast ocean, you can run a marathon, you can go to the Great Wall of China. The freedom can be paralyzing...you don't know what to do first. The way you defined yourself in space (i.e. based on your surroundings) cannot be applied to Earth. Since you have a different externals, different limitations, you define yourself differently. It's almost like you have to start all over.
The transition from college campus to home can be like that, I guess. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, I love reading and relaxing, I love being outside. But I also love being on campus, involved in meaningful work, surrounded by friends and tons of interesting strangers...dying to get a glimpse into their lives. I have different boundaries there, and I make many decisions based on my aspirations with photojournalism. But those boundaries don't apply to home, and photojournalism is pretty much absent here. It's not a smooth transition.
Yes, so obviously I AM the same person. And I know that my identity is only found in Christ: me dwelling in Him, and Him in me. But how does this play out practically? Practically, I let work, friends, external environment, external boundaries define who I am. I don't like that. I know it's human...we all have our own idols. And it's a horrid thing. All I can do is repent and pray that God infiltrates all aspects of my life. I guess that's why it's a good thing that I'm not doing some intense photo-related thing this summer: because I have put so much of my trust and comfort in that, and it's not even real!
Hmm, I haven't completed my thoughts on the matter. And I haven't attained a level of peace yet, but that's fine.
I'm going to go finish Harry Potter 5 and listen to some Derek Webb. In my green cotton dress, in my cave, before I sleep.
These inward trials I employ
From self and pride to set thee free
And break thy schemes of earthly joy
That thou mayest seek thy all in me
Saturday, May 05, 2007
looking forward to looking back
I have to write a religion paper on the purpose of reflection, but I'm not feeling that philosophical/academic right now. Besides, I'd rather reflect on real-world experiences than reflect upon reflection. It's a cool topic though. I just have to be in the right setting to think. (right setting=on this rainy saturday afternoon, either by the fireplace at the e. franklin st. caribou coffee, or davis library. I just can't work on anything in my dorm.
Dad came today and helped me move 2/3 of my stuff. I forgot how much I love being around him...we have more in common than I thought in high school. In a way, we've both gone through similar life-changing experiences within the past two years. He finally quit his computer-related job, a source of great unhappiness and frustration, and took on something that more suits his free spirit: truck-driving. He stopped doing what he thought he should be doing and did what he wanted to do...but it was a long process of finding that. College did the same thing to me...heck, I found an old college application essay to UNC with my "professional statement" on it and laughed for a long time. It was a sad laughter, since I was so trapped then...pursuing what I thought I should do (science, pre-med) instead of finding my true desires. I guess that's just a long process, though...I was so tied up in Westmonsterland and family legacies and what not that I wasn't able to explore my real interests. Pastor Byron expressed to me on Tuesday his awe over how much I've blossomed this past year, for lack of better terminology. I've discovered my artistic side here, something that I used to cultivate when I was eight years old and writing crazy short-stories. And then there's the relational realm...a brand new conception for me. And now...I can't imagine a life without photography. Or people. I feel like it's always been a part of me...and maybe it has. I was still a photographer in high school...I just didn't have the equipment. At any rate, I've been freed from my enslavement to academic perfectionism, in God's grace, in coming to Chapel Hill. And I can't really put a finger on when the transition started. It was so gradual...mostly ignited by Chile in June 2006.
Anyways, Dad and I are both free-spirits, I suppose. Prone to wandering and longing to break past the boundaries of scheduled monotony. We both like traveling...the highs that come from seeing new places and meeting new people and then the periods of solitary reflection before returning home. He admitted to me that North Carolina/Wake Forest doesn't feel like "home" for him. He said, "My home is on the road." That's exactly how I feel. Chapel Hill is, admittedly, becoming more of a home. But my real home is out there...out in the world...whether that be on the drive to St. Louis as I pass through the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains and sing Regina Spektor in my car, or on a chiva in Panama with my new friend Olmedo and an old gringo friend beside me, or in a new area: a Cherokee reservation in the Smokies, up north with my sister at an Ivy, out west. I really can't imagine settling down and still don't know if what it's what I really want. I want marriage, I want to learn how to love someone other than myself...but I don't want the suburban package that typically accompanies it. I guess I need to find another wanderer like myself.
Anyways, I'd love to go with Dad on one of his trips. I want him to get a trip out to the Grand Canyon, or Montanta, or Idaho. He said it's not likely unless he transfers to a new company, but oh man...how unforgettable that would be. Me and Dad on the road. Speaking of roads, I need to read On the Road. Carolyn said it's good...and I know it's one of Jules' obsessions. Thank goodness for summer...reading.
I'm sad that the semester/year is coming to a close. I've had so many positive experiences these past nine months...I've made so many unlikely new friends, learned important life-lessons, messed up a good number of times but have grown from it.
I like the rainy Saturday-afternoon mood. It's a good thinking/writing atmosphere. I like peeking out my window in the dorm and watching families take pictures at the Old Well. I think it's a visual that I'm going to miss from sophomore year.
Yelling out my window to RUFers as they convened there for a scavenger hunt in the fall, screaming in ecstasy with Carolyn the first day we moved in and saw our spectacular view, seeing the first snow over the Well in January and taking pictures from my lofted bed,
photographing Carolyn and her friends there in the closing weeks of school, with pink flowers in full bloom.
And just talking on the phone at midnight in that general area. Gah...yeah, I'm going to miss the Old Well "experience," since there's not a specific memory that sums it all up.
Well, I think I'll be on my way to Caribou to start this paper.
I'll leave you with a good refrain that's playing on my computer, and it's a pretty sound:
"Walking out in the freezing rain, I feel nothing because I've numbed the pain. I'm looking forward to looking back on this day." ~Over the Rhine
Dad came today and helped me move 2/3 of my stuff. I forgot how much I love being around him...we have more in common than I thought in high school. In a way, we've both gone through similar life-changing experiences within the past two years. He finally quit his computer-related job, a source of great unhappiness and frustration, and took on something that more suits his free spirit: truck-driving. He stopped doing what he thought he should be doing and did what he wanted to do...but it was a long process of finding that. College did the same thing to me...heck, I found an old college application essay to UNC with my "professional statement" on it and laughed for a long time. It was a sad laughter, since I was so trapped then...pursuing what I thought I should do (science, pre-med) instead of finding my true desires. I guess that's just a long process, though...I was so tied up in Westmonsterland and family legacies and what not that I wasn't able to explore my real interests. Pastor Byron expressed to me on Tuesday his awe over how much I've blossomed this past year, for lack of better terminology. I've discovered my artistic side here, something that I used to cultivate when I was eight years old and writing crazy short-stories. And then there's the relational realm...a brand new conception for me. And now...I can't imagine a life without photography. Or people. I feel like it's always been a part of me...and maybe it has. I was still a photographer in high school...I just didn't have the equipment. At any rate, I've been freed from my enslavement to academic perfectionism, in God's grace, in coming to Chapel Hill. And I can't really put a finger on when the transition started. It was so gradual...mostly ignited by Chile in June 2006.
Anyways, Dad and I are both free-spirits, I suppose. Prone to wandering and longing to break past the boundaries of scheduled monotony. We both like traveling...the highs that come from seeing new places and meeting new people and then the periods of solitary reflection before returning home. He admitted to me that North Carolina/Wake Forest doesn't feel like "home" for him. He said, "My home is on the road." That's exactly how I feel. Chapel Hill is, admittedly, becoming more of a home. But my real home is out there...out in the world...whether that be on the drive to St. Louis as I pass through the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains and sing Regina Spektor in my car, or on a chiva in Panama with my new friend Olmedo and an old gringo friend beside me, or in a new area: a Cherokee reservation in the Smokies, up north with my sister at an Ivy, out west. I really can't imagine settling down and still don't know if what it's what I really want. I want marriage, I want to learn how to love someone other than myself...but I don't want the suburban package that typically accompanies it. I guess I need to find another wanderer like myself.
Anyways, I'd love to go with Dad on one of his trips. I want him to get a trip out to the Grand Canyon, or Montanta, or Idaho. He said it's not likely unless he transfers to a new company, but oh man...how unforgettable that would be. Me and Dad on the road. Speaking of roads, I need to read On the Road. Carolyn said it's good...and I know it's one of Jules' obsessions. Thank goodness for summer...reading.
I'm sad that the semester/year is coming to a close. I've had so many positive experiences these past nine months...I've made so many unlikely new friends, learned important life-lessons, messed up a good number of times but have grown from it.
I like the rainy Saturday-afternoon mood. It's a good thinking/writing atmosphere. I like peeking out my window in the dorm and watching families take pictures at the Old Well. I think it's a visual that I'm going to miss from sophomore year.
Yelling out my window to RUFers as they convened there for a scavenger hunt in the fall, screaming in ecstasy with Carolyn the first day we moved in and saw our spectacular view, seeing the first snow over the Well in January and taking pictures from my lofted bed,
photographing Carolyn and her friends there in the closing weeks of school, with pink flowers in full bloom.
And just talking on the phone at midnight in that general area. Gah...yeah, I'm going to miss the Old Well "experience," since there's not a specific memory that sums it all up.
Well, I think I'll be on my way to Caribou to start this paper.
I'll leave you with a good refrain that's playing on my computer, and it's a pretty sound:
"Walking out in the freezing rain, I feel nothing because I've numbed the pain. I'm looking forward to looking back on this day." ~Over the Rhine
Friday, April 27, 2007
verano
I'm so good at procrastinating that I should win an award.
I'm at Weaver Street right now, taking advantage of free wifi, raspberries, and iced coffee. I've decided that when I get my own house I will grow raspberry bushes so that I can eat them whenever I want for free. They really are the best fruit, even though they aren't technically berries. (A raspberry is an aggregate fruit with lots of little drupelet things around a center).
The Brenner family used to grow blueberries in their front yard. I remember waking up one summer morning and picking the berries right off the bush for breakfast. Whenever I drive by their house (which is rare, since I'm never in St. Louis anymore), I glimpse out the window to see if the bush is still thriving.
I have a serious problem when it comes to making decisions. I let my mind wander way too much when I hear of exciting opportunities and start imagining what it would be like to do that or be there. For example...yesterday Andrew told me that there may be one spot left in the Fall 2007 Honors Abroad program to Cape Town, and I decided then and there that I wanted to do that. So i went on a wild goose-chase trying to find the right study abroad advisors. But alas, there is no such spot, and I cannot go to Africa in the Fall. Phooey. I wonder what would happen if I substituted daydreaming/trying desperately to leave UNC with prayer. Would I be more focused? Would I be less prone to fantasize about traveling the world? Food for thought...
At any rate, I think I do want to study abroad for a semester. But I don't want to go alone on an exchange program. I like UNC students. (Isn't it weird how God has been changing my heart with regards to that??? Last semester all I wanted to do was drop out of school and go live with my Peruvian lovers). There's a cool UNC program in Havana, Cuba that happens every spring. I think I might try doing that next spring. Cuba would be AMAZING. I'd get really tan and maybe I'd meet a lovely Latin America boy. :)
We all know how fond I am of foreign boys...
Anyways, I really need to post some more fotos. This is my attitude about the end of the year:
*************
I have so many random, unconnected thoughts right now that I have been steadily aquiring the past week. I've been hanging out with Mormons for a photostory. I think i'll write about that experience later.
Here was a mini-epiphany of mine from last night: You know you feel at home in a place when you have friends/acquaintances willing to smoke cloves with you on the quad at night. Friends who, at one random phone call or run through the UL to see if they are there, will drop what they are doing and spent 15 minutes outside, talking under the night sky. Sometimes I still get lonely and wish Julie or Emily were here...they would always be willing to do something of the sorts. But that loneliness has waned the past semester. Lots of people would be willing to do such a thing...you just have to ask instead of waiting to be asked.
I really like painting with light.
That's all for now. I really do need to start editing these intro texts for the Special Olympics website. Adieu.
I'm at Weaver Street right now, taking advantage of free wifi, raspberries, and iced coffee. I've decided that when I get my own house I will grow raspberry bushes so that I can eat them whenever I want for free. They really are the best fruit, even though they aren't technically berries. (A raspberry is an aggregate fruit with lots of little drupelet things around a center).
The Brenner family used to grow blueberries in their front yard. I remember waking up one summer morning and picking the berries right off the bush for breakfast. Whenever I drive by their house (which is rare, since I'm never in St. Louis anymore), I glimpse out the window to see if the bush is still thriving.
I have a serious problem when it comes to making decisions. I let my mind wander way too much when I hear of exciting opportunities and start imagining what it would be like to do that or be there. For example...yesterday Andrew told me that there may be one spot left in the Fall 2007 Honors Abroad program to Cape Town, and I decided then and there that I wanted to do that. So i went on a wild goose-chase trying to find the right study abroad advisors. But alas, there is no such spot, and I cannot go to Africa in the Fall. Phooey. I wonder what would happen if I substituted daydreaming/trying desperately to leave UNC with prayer. Would I be more focused? Would I be less prone to fantasize about traveling the world? Food for thought...
At any rate, I think I do want to study abroad for a semester. But I don't want to go alone on an exchange program. I like UNC students. (Isn't it weird how God has been changing my heart with regards to that??? Last semester all I wanted to do was drop out of school and go live with my Peruvian lovers). There's a cool UNC program in Havana, Cuba that happens every spring. I think I might try doing that next spring. Cuba would be AMAZING. I'd get really tan and maybe I'd meet a lovely Latin America boy. :)
We all know how fond I am of foreign boys...
Anyways, I really need to post some more fotos. This is my attitude about the end of the year:
*************
I have so many random, unconnected thoughts right now that I have been steadily aquiring the past week. I've been hanging out with Mormons for a photostory. I think i'll write about that experience later.
Here was a mini-epiphany of mine from last night: You know you feel at home in a place when you have friends/acquaintances willing to smoke cloves with you on the quad at night. Friends who, at one random phone call or run through the UL to see if they are there, will drop what they are doing and spent 15 minutes outside, talking under the night sky. Sometimes I still get lonely and wish Julie or Emily were here...they would always be willing to do something of the sorts. But that loneliness has waned the past semester. Lots of people would be willing to do such a thing...you just have to ask instead of waiting to be asked.
I really like painting with light.
That's all for now. I really do need to start editing these intro texts for the Special Olympics website. Adieu.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
desultory
I've been generally bored all week. Which is weird, because I've got lots of work to do. I guess I'm treating things like a check-list...just pushing to get stuff done so that summer can come sooner. It's made me very unmotivated...so I just lay in the grass. I think I had this problem last April. April really is the month of that bright eye's song.
Why do you lay in the grass?
Why do you lay there?
Don't you want to be found?
I hate Carroll Hall. I always forget to bring my music so I'm usually bored to tears working in the lab. It would be so much better if I brought Coldplay or the Shins or something soothing to assauge the tedium of working in the stupid, windowless labs.
My kleenex smell like cloves because they're in the same bag. I really like blowing my nose now.
I've also been very moody this week. Becca asked me if I wanted to taste her falafel on Monday, and I started tearing up. I don't cry (as) much anymore. I think I bottle up my emotions and then work/stress eventually catch up with me and I start leaking. It's a gradual explosion. But then I felt better because I hung out with the jane murchison/liz ross crowd and they always make me smile. I do wish I had more consistency in my life, in general. balance or something. i wonder if that's an ideal i should stop aiming for, though.
I really want/need to go to an Art Museum. And a bar. But I'm not legal, so I have to wait. Bah. Maybe I'll go to Galen's party on Friday and hang out with the photogs. It won't be as fun as CPJW, though. That was the best.
Okay, I'm going to go eat lunch now. ciao.
Why do you lay in the grass?
Why do you lay there?
Don't you want to be found?
I hate Carroll Hall. I always forget to bring my music so I'm usually bored to tears working in the lab. It would be so much better if I brought Coldplay or the Shins or something soothing to assauge the tedium of working in the stupid, windowless labs.
My kleenex smell like cloves because they're in the same bag. I really like blowing my nose now.
I've also been very moody this week. Becca asked me if I wanted to taste her falafel on Monday, and I started tearing up. I don't cry (as) much anymore. I think I bottle up my emotions and then work/stress eventually catch up with me and I start leaking. It's a gradual explosion. But then I felt better because I hung out with the jane murchison/liz ross crowd and they always make me smile. I do wish I had more consistency in my life, in general. balance or something. i wonder if that's an ideal i should stop aiming for, though.
I really want/need to go to an Art Museum. And a bar. But I'm not legal, so I have to wait. Bah. Maybe I'll go to Galen's party on Friday and hang out with the photogs. It won't be as fun as CPJW, though. That was the best.
Okay, I'm going to go eat lunch now. ciao.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
product of boredom
In middle school I would fill out surveys on a monthly basis and send them out in mass emails. Did everyone do that at that age, or was that some wacked WCA thing? At any rate, I still enjoy filling out surveys. mwhahaha
1. What is your natural hair color? dark brown
2. What color is it now? dark brown
3. Do you bite your nails? when I'm bored, but usually, no.
4. Do you like to go shopping? i like thrift stores, produces, shoes, and music. shopping for any of those. Oh, and I like to go shopping when it involves a particular panamanian mall and particular panamanian boy. :)
5. What do you do on a typical Friday night? Eat Indian food or something tasty like that, watch a movie, take a walk, talk on the phone after midnight at the Old Well near my dorm, take off my socks, the like.
6. How long do you take in the shower? when I'm really depressed, 15-30 minutes. Otherwise I guess it's around 10 minutes. Showering has become a hobby of sorts.
7. What is the worst day of the week? Wednesday. That second 8 am is wretched, and that second DTH shift is even wretcheder. (like my grammar?)
8. Who is the last person you talked to on the phone? the mormon missionaries, for my photo story.
9. When was the last time you saw your dad? on easter sunday, at home.
10. When is the last time you went to the doctor's? uhh...in february when i was sick perpetually.
11. Have you ever stayed overnight at a hospital? yes.
12. How many siblings do you have? 1, and an imaginary one (Fred).
13. Do you know anyone named Bob? personally, no.
14. Did you used to read those "I spy" books when you were a kid? no. But I spied for a time.
15. Which magazines have you had subscriptions to? some photography thing, newsweek, uh..american girl?
16. Did you ever read any of the Babysitter Club books? YES. they are my life.
17. What is one weird thing about you that many people don't know? i stuck a bead up my nose when i was six and it hurt.
18. Are you a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? really heavy sleeper. apparently i move a lot, too. just ask poor carolyn.
19. What color shirt are you wearing? puke yellow with blue stains. it's really ugly. It's from my lost childhood.
20. What is the worst feeling in the world? hicupping in the library (everyone stares). I'm experiencing this right now...and I didn't think it was the worst feeling until it happened.
1. What is your natural hair color? dark brown
2. What color is it now? dark brown
3. Do you bite your nails? when I'm bored, but usually, no.
4. Do you like to go shopping? i like thrift stores, produces, shoes, and music. shopping for any of those. Oh, and I like to go shopping when it involves a particular panamanian mall and particular panamanian boy. :)
5. What do you do on a typical Friday night? Eat Indian food or something tasty like that, watch a movie, take a walk, talk on the phone after midnight at the Old Well near my dorm, take off my socks, the like.
6. How long do you take in the shower? when I'm really depressed, 15-30 minutes. Otherwise I guess it's around 10 minutes. Showering has become a hobby of sorts.
7. What is the worst day of the week? Wednesday. That second 8 am is wretched, and that second DTH shift is even wretcheder. (like my grammar?)
8. Who is the last person you talked to on the phone? the mormon missionaries, for my photo story.
9. When was the last time you saw your dad? on easter sunday, at home.
10. When is the last time you went to the doctor's? uhh...in february when i was sick perpetually.
11. Have you ever stayed overnight at a hospital? yes.
12. How many siblings do you have? 1, and an imaginary one (Fred).
13. Do you know anyone named Bob? personally, no.
14. Did you used to read those "I spy" books when you were a kid? no. But I spied for a time.
15. Which magazines have you had subscriptions to? some photography thing, newsweek, uh..american girl?
16. Did you ever read any of the Babysitter Club books? YES. they are my life.
17. What is one weird thing about you that many people don't know? i stuck a bead up my nose when i was six and it hurt.
18. Are you a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? really heavy sleeper. apparently i move a lot, too. just ask poor carolyn.
19. What color shirt are you wearing? puke yellow with blue stains. it's really ugly. It's from my lost childhood.
20. What is the worst feeling in the world? hicupping in the library (everyone stares). I'm experiencing this right now...and I didn't think it was the worst feeling until it happened.
musings
how about a nice narrative?
today was a lovely spring day spent rolling in the grass. I smell like sweat, grass, and mud. And I look horrid, clad in my 1997 children's choir shirt that has aqua-blue paint stains on the left sleeve from that day karah and I painted my bedroom.
Epiphany of the day= running in the woods is an activity that should be done more. It's a solitary activity in which you don't feel alone, paradoxically. I don't, at least. I'm away from the crowds, the deadlines, the blinking digitial clock on my wardrobe top...and all sense of time and place kind of floats away as I let my mind wander, loosening the fetters. And it hurts...my chest hurts and my shins ache, but I just keep running...half-talking to myself, half-talking to God.
Some of my most vivid memories from high school stem from long runs in the woods. They are timeless. They are free from anxiety about the past, present, or future. Just me and the weathered trail, maybe some running buddies, but inevitably I am alone with the trees and the ground and the crickets. It wasn't even a particularly beautiful park. But that's what I remember most vividly...the experience of running in the woods.
I feel like I'm wasting my energy, my youthful physique (ha!). Eating, Exercising, my body image and the like...gosh, it's been such a struggle since senior year. freshmen 15 and then some, that's for sure. I just want to run again...to not worry about how I look or how far I've run or how many calories I've expended. I just want to get that release again. But it's so darn hard working up to it...every day is like day 1. I never really get past that initial run.
So I doubt I will ever be able to reclaim that vigor I once had. I'm too jaded. I'm also too fat. I'm also more content with life, with inconsitency, with myself. Running used to be an escape from the unknown. I don't want it to be an escape. I just want it.
But I still doubt I'll ever be able to do it. And I guess I have to be okay with that.
On a different note, the semester is almost over. Pretty soon I will be in Florida with RUF, then at Yale with my big sister, then St. Louis for a couple of weeks, and then Chicago for the remainder of the summer with Jules. I don't really want to think about the summer. I don't want to have any preconceived, romantic notions about what it should be, since what it will be is always drastically different (and usually, hopefully better). I can still have goals/desires, though. I guess they are as follows:
today was a lovely spring day spent rolling in the grass. I smell like sweat, grass, and mud. And I look horrid, clad in my 1997 children's choir shirt that has aqua-blue paint stains on the left sleeve from that day karah and I painted my bedroom.
Epiphany of the day= running in the woods is an activity that should be done more. It's a solitary activity in which you don't feel alone, paradoxically. I don't, at least. I'm away from the crowds, the deadlines, the blinking digitial clock on my wardrobe top...and all sense of time and place kind of floats away as I let my mind wander, loosening the fetters. And it hurts...my chest hurts and my shins ache, but I just keep running...half-talking to myself, half-talking to God.
Some of my most vivid memories from high school stem from long runs in the woods. They are timeless. They are free from anxiety about the past, present, or future. Just me and the weathered trail, maybe some running buddies, but inevitably I am alone with the trees and the ground and the crickets. It wasn't even a particularly beautiful park. But that's what I remember most vividly...the experience of running in the woods.
I feel like I'm wasting my energy, my youthful physique (ha!). Eating, Exercising, my body image and the like...gosh, it's been such a struggle since senior year. freshmen 15 and then some, that's for sure. I just want to run again...to not worry about how I look or how far I've run or how many calories I've expended. I just want to get that release again. But it's so darn hard working up to it...every day is like day 1. I never really get past that initial run.
So I doubt I will ever be able to reclaim that vigor I once had. I'm too jaded. I'm also too fat. I'm also more content with life, with inconsitency, with myself. Running used to be an escape from the unknown. I don't want it to be an escape. I just want it.
But I still doubt I'll ever be able to do it. And I guess I have to be okay with that.
On a different note, the semester is almost over. Pretty soon I will be in Florida with RUF, then at Yale with my big sister, then St. Louis for a couple of weeks, and then Chicago for the remainder of the summer with Jules. I don't really want to think about the summer. I don't want to have any preconceived, romantic notions about what it should be, since what it will be is always drastically different (and usually, hopefully better). I can still have goals/desires, though. I guess they are as follows:
- that I can finish the school year with some sense of peace. It all will end so darn quickly...and I want to savour the last two weeks with some of my best friends who will be leaving, venturing out into the Big World next fall. I want to run in the woods (we've already established this), and I want to just BE. Just be with friends, with my roomie, with my church.
- summer...wow, that I can slow down and enjoy each moment for what it is. That I can stop comparing every second of every day to this unrealistic, unattainable ideal that I carry heavily in my head.
- That I can approach God with regularity and spontaneity (ah, because I still maintain that the former is important). I want growth in God to be a goal...it's a nagging desire I've had brewing inside of me this past month, but I haven't gotten to really devote myself to prayer/fellowship/study of Scripture the way I'd like to (maybe this is another one of those unattainable ideals). Granted, I know it is God who grows me, not myself, but what can I do to speed up the process? I say that with a hint of sincerity. :)
- That I can put serious "photo" thinking aside...that ever-present anxiety about the future, about doing all that I can be doing to hone my skills and crap like that. there is more to life than my career, there is more to life than work...and I desperately want to grasp that. It's come in glimmers the past two years. And again, maybe since perfectionism is my devil, this is another unrealistic ideal...i can never be anxiety-free. But as far as my focus goes, I don't want to be stressing out about photo.
- as for smaller things...I'd like to sing more. Outside of my car, that is. I'd like to sketch landscapes. I'd also like to play the guitar. Maybe my sister will lend me hers, which was a Christmas present she never really used. I'd like to be more of a hippie. Maybe get my nose pierced and eat granola.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
april showers
I'm a wave-riding sort of girl. I think I am, by nature/socialization/some personality conditioned to be extreme and driven, but deep down I crave stability and happiness. love, friends, family, church, the body of Christ, enjoying the world that I'm living in and looking forward to the hope I have in heaven. But I get so distracted and easily tossed around, especially when dealing with authority figures telling me what I should do with my life, or what I should want to do with my life. And especially with regards to photo.
I was about to launch into a lengthy exposition on why this is the case, but I just now decided not to. I'm sick of being all stressed/fearful about my future. I've wasted the last hour worrying, where I could have been talking with someone or listening to music.
Okay, well, my creative juices have evaporated and now I'm going to go talk to Joey and listen to Over the Rhine. I don't know why I titled this "april showers."
I want to make a photoblog.
I was about to launch into a lengthy exposition on why this is the case, but I just now decided not to. I'm sick of being all stressed/fearful about my future. I've wasted the last hour worrying, where I could have been talking with someone or listening to music.
Okay, well, my creative juices have evaporated and now I'm going to go talk to Joey and listen to Over the Rhine. I don't know why I titled this "april showers."
I want to make a photoblog.
Monday, March 05, 2007
March
I missed an entire month.
I didn't miss experiences, but I missed writing about them and discovering hidden secrets through that process where all things are illuminated.
I'm sitting at the UL and I'm supposed to be studying like a good student for her upcoming Studio Lighting Midterm. But my thoughts keep taking me elsewhere...to the safety of my high school bubble and the baby-blue comfort of seeing the same crowd day after day. Even though I prefer the broader spectrum of shades and depths at college (can we say the real world, yet?), that part of me that is still a child longs for the olden days of black and white. Thinking critically (and I'm not talking about inside the classroom) is fatiguing and scary. The days of When. When I would skip class with Julie and Karah or lay in the grass after 4th period. When I had lacrosse practice and touring choir and piano lessons on Tuesday nights. It's a time of my life that is growing more foreign by the minute. So much of it was mechanical...but it made the memory-making so much sweet. The grass, the road-trips, the rainy tuesday evenings driving down Lindbergh Blvd. with Jules or Lydia listening to Iron & Wine or whatever band I had just discovered. And I love that life isn't as mechanical anymore, but I miss that the friend-times aren't as spontaneous.
Does growing up mean that you lose all spontaneity? Will I one day stop swinging at the elementary school playground? Will I stop taking a two-hour walk at midnight when I feel that tightness well up in my chest? Probably. It will be replaced with better things. Not stability and routine, but children and work and responsibility. I just hope that my relationships can always retain that youthful elasticity and vigor.
Right now I am lonely. I won't be tomorrow. I wasn't even lonely for most of the day. But I'm sitting here thinking about the good friends that I have made this year that are suddenly leaving. Emmanuel is going to Canada tonight to become a father. Laura and Melanie and Dave are graduating. Even those people that I'm not particularly close to but I just like being around..are not present. Tory is in Spain. Alex is in Cuba. But I mostly just miss Emmanuel, and if I wasn't so saturated with technical photography terms I would start to cry, ever so softly.
I know that God is faithful and that He's all I need. But that doesn't mean that I don't need people in my life. My ministry is to partake in the building up of the body of Christ. To discover the beauty of relationships and learn about mutual encouragement and friendship. I am adopted into one gigantic family that takes joy in what I talk about at the dinner table when we're feasting together. And even though people are leaving geographically and maybe even a bit socially, they are just as much my family and Christ is still just as much the Head, who makes sure that we care for one another. It makes me long for heaven...when we can all be together again without ANY barriers...physcial, geographical, psychological, emotional, mental, spiritual, racial, gender(al)?. When the world will be restored to the way it was created and the fullness of Christ will radiate through our entire beings. There's a glimpse of that now, and I pray that God can keep revealing his splendor and love to me so that I get "hot for him," as ben might say. Earth is one large pre-gaming session, and heaven is the real party.
I hope that I can become less self-reflective and more God-reflective. Or that the self-reflectiveness can forever point me into the latter.
This letter isn't really about March. Or is it?
I didn't miss experiences, but I missed writing about them and discovering hidden secrets through that process where all things are illuminated.
I'm sitting at the UL and I'm supposed to be studying like a good student for her upcoming Studio Lighting Midterm. But my thoughts keep taking me elsewhere...to the safety of my high school bubble and the baby-blue comfort of seeing the same crowd day after day. Even though I prefer the broader spectrum of shades and depths at college (can we say the real world, yet?), that part of me that is still a child longs for the olden days of black and white. Thinking critically (and I'm not talking about inside the classroom) is fatiguing and scary. The days of When. When I would skip class with Julie and Karah or lay in the grass after 4th period. When I had lacrosse practice and touring choir and piano lessons on Tuesday nights. It's a time of my life that is growing more foreign by the minute. So much of it was mechanical...but it made the memory-making so much sweet. The grass, the road-trips, the rainy tuesday evenings driving down Lindbergh Blvd. with Jules or Lydia listening to Iron & Wine or whatever band I had just discovered. And I love that life isn't as mechanical anymore, but I miss that the friend-times aren't as spontaneous.
Does growing up mean that you lose all spontaneity? Will I one day stop swinging at the elementary school playground? Will I stop taking a two-hour walk at midnight when I feel that tightness well up in my chest? Probably. It will be replaced with better things. Not stability and routine, but children and work and responsibility. I just hope that my relationships can always retain that youthful elasticity and vigor.
Right now I am lonely. I won't be tomorrow. I wasn't even lonely for most of the day. But I'm sitting here thinking about the good friends that I have made this year that are suddenly leaving. Emmanuel is going to Canada tonight to become a father. Laura and Melanie and Dave are graduating. Even those people that I'm not particularly close to but I just like being around..are not present. Tory is in Spain. Alex is in Cuba. But I mostly just miss Emmanuel, and if I wasn't so saturated with technical photography terms I would start to cry, ever so softly.
I know that God is faithful and that He's all I need. But that doesn't mean that I don't need people in my life. My ministry is to partake in the building up of the body of Christ. To discover the beauty of relationships and learn about mutual encouragement and friendship. I am adopted into one gigantic family that takes joy in what I talk about at the dinner table when we're feasting together. And even though people are leaving geographically and maybe even a bit socially, they are just as much my family and Christ is still just as much the Head, who makes sure that we care for one another. It makes me long for heaven...when we can all be together again without ANY barriers...physcial, geographical, psychological, emotional, mental, spiritual, racial, gender(al)?. When the world will be restored to the way it was created and the fullness of Christ will radiate through our entire beings. There's a glimpse of that now, and I pray that God can keep revealing his splendor and love to me so that I get "hot for him," as ben might say. Earth is one large pre-gaming session, and heaven is the real party.
I hope that I can become less self-reflective and more God-reflective. Or that the self-reflectiveness can forever point me into the latter.
This letter isn't really about March. Or is it?
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
back to the slate
One word answers:
1. Yourself: average
2. Your girlfriend/boyfriend/crush: nonexistant
3. Your hair?: swept
4. Your mother? sensible
5. Your Father? gregarious
6. Your Favorite Item: SLR
7. Your dream last night: anxious
8. Your Favorite drink: coffee
9. Your Dream Car: stick-shift
10. The Room You Are In: sunlit
11. Your Ex: invisible
12. Your fear: myself
13. What you want to be in 10 years: abroad(er)
14. Who you hung out with last night? carolyn
15. What You're Not? rational
16. Muffins: scones
17: One of Your Wish List Items: telephoto
18: Time: afternoon
19. The Last Thing You Did: napped
20. What You Are Wearing: retro
21. Your Favorite Weather: moody
22. Your Favorite Book: stream-of-consciousness
23. The Last Thing You Ate: cheezits
24. Your Life: yellow
25. Your Mood: complacent
26. Your body: regular
27. What are you thinking about right now? love
29. What are you doing at the moment? pondering
30. Your summer: growth
31. Best part of your life: God
Current Music: silence
1. Yourself: average
2. Your girlfriend/boyfriend/crush: nonexistant
3. Your hair?: swept
4. Your mother? sensible
5. Your Father? gregarious
6. Your Favorite Item: SLR
7. Your dream last night: anxious
8. Your Favorite drink: coffee
9. Your Dream Car: stick-shift
10. The Room You Are In: sunlit
11. Your Ex: invisible
12. Your fear: myself
13. What you want to be in 10 years: abroad(er)
14. Who you hung out with last night? carolyn
15. What You're Not? rational
16. Muffins: scones
17: One of Your Wish List Items: telephoto
18: Time: afternoon
19. The Last Thing You Did: napped
20. What You Are Wearing: retro
21. Your Favorite Weather: moody
22. Your Favorite Book: stream-of-consciousness
23. The Last Thing You Ate: cheezits
24. Your Life: yellow
25. Your Mood: complacent
26. Your body: regular
27. What are you thinking about right now? love
29. What are you doing at the moment? pondering
30. Your summer: growth
31. Best part of your life: God
Current Music: silence
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Monday, November 13, 2006
not sure what I said really.
It's the two-year anniversary of imagination. Julie would understand. Although her November was the pits. Mine...that was when I bought a new journal. That was when I would peruse books at Borders and drink coffee in the evening. That was the month of East of Eden and All the Kings Men. It was a month of tights and falling in love. It was a month of emo British lyrics and rearranging my bedroom. And I haven't thought about it in awhile.
Granted, there were lots of screwed up things then. And I was pretty absorbed in myself and teenage ennui and things of that nature. But there was something there. Something lovely though I'm not sure how real it was. Though it felt real.
I'm too serious in college. I think too much about what the future holds. I worry. Conversations revolve around schoolwork and scheduling and next semester...that's just the way things roll. Campus organizations and endless paths of brick...it's like a plastic organism.
I'm complaining, I know. I'm trying to reclaim something I lost upon coming to college...even though I've gained so much more. Youth is fleeting, beauty if fleeting, success is fleeting. I wish I could see things through the eyes of a centenarian.
In the meantime, I will wear tights. I will look outside of the library window at the flaming orange leaves and wait for them to fall. And I will pray...pray that God will help me reconcile this longing for shomething differnet with contentment in the here and now. My thoughts aren't the most glorifying at this moment, and it makes me wonder if this blog post has any purpose whatsoever. I don't think I've said anything.
Oh well. Who really does?
I need to just go pray.
Granted, there were lots of screwed up things then. And I was pretty absorbed in myself and teenage ennui and things of that nature. But there was something there. Something lovely though I'm not sure how real it was. Though it felt real.
I'm too serious in college. I think too much about what the future holds. I worry. Conversations revolve around schoolwork and scheduling and next semester...that's just the way things roll. Campus organizations and endless paths of brick...it's like a plastic organism.
I'm complaining, I know. I'm trying to reclaim something I lost upon coming to college...even though I've gained so much more. Youth is fleeting, beauty if fleeting, success is fleeting. I wish I could see things through the eyes of a centenarian.
In the meantime, I will wear tights. I will look outside of the library window at the flaming orange leaves and wait for them to fall. And I will pray...pray that God will help me reconcile this longing for shomething differnet with contentment in the here and now. My thoughts aren't the most glorifying at this moment, and it makes me wonder if this blog post has any purpose whatsoever. I don't think I've said anything.
Oh well. Who really does?
I need to just go pray.
on and on and on and on and on and on and on...
I can remember that time in my life where all I could do, all I could feel, all I could think about was the writing that was inside me, welling up until I just had to spit it out on paper. Not on a computer, but in my leather-bound journal, my cuaderno cafecito. Spanish thoughts and impressions, Spanish words and ideas, Spanish longings and dissatsifaction with the white American complacency. I would sit at the kitchen table and let the summer light pour through the windows as I poured over blank pages and watched them fill themselves...magically, naturally. Cinco, seis, diez paginas de ideas, de pensar y crear y sentirme.
I miss that time.
Something wonderful happens to you when you return from a foreign country. Something wonderful and unbearble. Unbearable because you can't stand anything that you used to like...you can't enjoy television or music, you can't stand the studying or the saturday football games. You can't stand the toilet paper and the low-fat salad dressing. You can't even stand the air-conditioning. Your thoughts are absorbed by the way things were in that other land that now feels more like home than this foreign place. You miss the Spanish and the frijoles con arroz or the tortilla de patatas. You miss the walking, the heat, the tiredness, because those feel more real than this. But it's wonderful, coming back, not because you can cherish all those American things again and started consuming, but because you realize the ephimeral nature of things. That what you needed before wasn't really necessary, that the world you had erected and that society had deemed "normal" for you really could be questioned, challenged, destroyed. That you hide yourself in structure, that you hide yourself in the television channels, that you hide yourself in the english language, that you hide yourself in the american dream. Go to high school, graduate with honors, go to college, get a degree, get married, have kids, be successful. Is that order necessary? These things are gifts from God, yes, but there is a whole other side to life and living.
I hate that I never chose to go to college. It was just assumed. I hate that I feel compelled to study, that I feel compelled to go to class. It's like a neurosis. I am itching to get out. I would like for those things to be a conscious choice...I would like to have a firmer idea of why I'm here...some clarity. I'm just here because I'm not sure how to get to the other places I'd like to be. Peru, Chile, Mexico, Costa Rica. And I want to be thankful for this, for college...so many people out there don't get this opportunity. But right now...I just want out. Granted, I want to come back, but I want to see what it's like for the majority of humanity...out there working, in poverty, in broken governments, but in family and community. I don't want to observe from the academic standpoint; I want to experience it first-hand. I want to not have a plan. I'm sick of plans.
Basta ya! Basta ya, el facebook y los celulares y el internet. basta ya, todo que uso en mi vida diaria.
to eschew technology, to eschew that net of safety that hides human rationality and morality. C Wright Mills highlights it...
Stream-of-conscious days of shadows and highlights, of highlights and highlighters, of running away into the trees and consuming too much sugar, of wanting more but settling for too little and losing myself to that fake world of safe structure and structured safety. And I don't know where I'm going, and I don't know where I'm going...
I miss that time.
Something wonderful happens to you when you return from a foreign country. Something wonderful and unbearble. Unbearable because you can't stand anything that you used to like...you can't enjoy television or music, you can't stand the studying or the saturday football games. You can't stand the toilet paper and the low-fat salad dressing. You can't even stand the air-conditioning. Your thoughts are absorbed by the way things were in that other land that now feels more like home than this foreign place. You miss the Spanish and the frijoles con arroz or the tortilla de patatas. You miss the walking, the heat, the tiredness, because those feel more real than this. But it's wonderful, coming back, not because you can cherish all those American things again and started consuming, but because you realize the ephimeral nature of things. That what you needed before wasn't really necessary, that the world you had erected and that society had deemed "normal" for you really could be questioned, challenged, destroyed. That you hide yourself in structure, that you hide yourself in the television channels, that you hide yourself in the english language, that you hide yourself in the american dream. Go to high school, graduate with honors, go to college, get a degree, get married, have kids, be successful. Is that order necessary? These things are gifts from God, yes, but there is a whole other side to life and living.
I hate that I never chose to go to college. It was just assumed. I hate that I feel compelled to study, that I feel compelled to go to class. It's like a neurosis. I am itching to get out. I would like for those things to be a conscious choice...I would like to have a firmer idea of why I'm here...some clarity. I'm just here because I'm not sure how to get to the other places I'd like to be. Peru, Chile, Mexico, Costa Rica. And I want to be thankful for this, for college...so many people out there don't get this opportunity. But right now...I just want out. Granted, I want to come back, but I want to see what it's like for the majority of humanity...out there working, in poverty, in broken governments, but in family and community. I don't want to observe from the academic standpoint; I want to experience it first-hand. I want to not have a plan. I'm sick of plans.
Basta ya! Basta ya, el facebook y los celulares y el internet. basta ya, todo que uso en mi vida diaria.
to eschew technology, to eschew that net of safety that hides human rationality and morality. C Wright Mills highlights it...
"In our time, must we not face the possibility that the human mind as a social fact might be deteriorating in quality and cultural level, and yet not many would notice it because of the overwheming accumulation of technological gadgets? Is not that one meanning of human alientation? Of the absence of any free role for reason in human affairs? The accumulation of gadgets hides these meanings: Those who use these devices do not understand them; those who invent thme do not understand much else."
Stream-of-conscious days of shadows and highlights, of highlights and highlighters, of running away into the trees and consuming too much sugar, of wanting more but settling for too little and losing myself to that fake world of safe structure and structured safety. And I don't know where I'm going, and I don't know where I'm going...
Thursday, September 28, 2006
inspiration and perspiration
Where is the line between inspiration and perspiration? Both come from inside. Both involve evaluating your surroundings and reacting accordingly (not necessarily logically). I have not been inspired to write. Or is it that I have not perspired enough in my endeavors, or lack thereof.
Both are extremely valuable, and both are extremely hard to come by.
But how long does insipration, sweet inspiration, last once it comes? A week, a day, a minute?
Inspiration does not always come first.
I guess that's why I'm writing. Because I want inspiration and figure that, in my writing, it will come.
And now I will write, getting over the fact that I can't flesh out this idea much more because I just need to write.
It's been a bumpy month, but I can't conceive of any better way to spend my weekend than in the mountains with my brothers and sisters in Christ. In ways I feel as though the month has climaxed with a bout of despair and is now reaching the dénouement of sorts. Conference will be a time to simply BE...a time to rest in Christ and Christian fellowship. My soul has been aching for this...this break not so much from school but from my racing mind and swirling fears. I was going to write about the latter, but I've changed my mind and am going to let it go...I've beat the subject to death, I've psychoanalyzed and overanalyzed and overcried and overfelt everything...and...it's...fragmenting...scattering. Screw how I feel and how I think and what I feel and what I think, because I know full well that my emotions are fickle. a whisper...Courtney, all that matters is that YOU are the bride of Christ, and that He not only knows about all your crap but has DIED for it and FORGIVEN it and has promised to provide. It's not dependent on how confident I am with photography or how well I "reach out" to other people or how productive I've been or how little sleep I've gotten because I'm so busy "doing God's work." and if I don't pray or read the Bible for a day, God will not love me any less, because He sees me AS CHRIST! Christ is in me and I am in him, and He will meet me in my despair or my frustration or my intense doubts about my 'performance' in this walk of life.
I thank God that it is not up to my strength. I thank God that He won't let any of these freaking idols that I am running after become my rock. I thank God for my troubles, even for my troubled mind...because it leads me back to Him. Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love...He is able.
Both are extremely valuable, and both are extremely hard to come by.
But how long does insipration, sweet inspiration, last once it comes? A week, a day, a minute?
Inspiration does not always come first.
I guess that's why I'm writing. Because I want inspiration and figure that, in my writing, it will come.
And now I will write, getting over the fact that I can't flesh out this idea much more because I just need to write.
It's been a bumpy month, but I can't conceive of any better way to spend my weekend than in the mountains with my brothers and sisters in Christ. In ways I feel as though the month has climaxed with a bout of despair and is now reaching the dénouement of sorts. Conference will be a time to simply BE...a time to rest in Christ and Christian fellowship. My soul has been aching for this...this break not so much from school but from my racing mind and swirling fears. I was going to write about the latter, but I've changed my mind and am going to let it go...I've beat the subject to death, I've psychoanalyzed and overanalyzed and overcried and overfelt everything...and...it's...fragmenting...scattering. Screw how I feel and how I think and what I feel and what I think, because I know full well that my emotions are fickle. a whisper...Courtney, all that matters is that YOU are the bride of Christ, and that He not only knows about all your crap but has DIED for it and FORGIVEN it and has promised to provide. It's not dependent on how confident I am with photography or how well I "reach out" to other people or how productive I've been or how little sleep I've gotten because I'm so busy "doing God's work." and if I don't pray or read the Bible for a day, God will not love me any less, because He sees me AS CHRIST! Christ is in me and I am in him, and He will meet me in my despair or my frustration or my intense doubts about my 'performance' in this walk of life.
Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. 3It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: "Let him who boasts boast in the Lord.
I thank God that it is not up to my strength. I thank God that He won't let any of these freaking idols that I am running after become my rock. I thank God for my troubles, even for my troubled mind...because it leads me back to Him. Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love...He is able.
inspiration and perspiration
Where is the line between inspiration and perspiration? Both come from inside. Both involve evaluating your surroundings and reacting accordingly (not necessarily logically). I have not been inspired to write. Or is it that I have not perspired enough in my endeavors, or lack thereof.
Both are extremely valuable, and both are extremely hard to come by.
But how long does insipration, sweet inspiration, last once it comes? A week, a day, a minute?
Inspiration does not always come first.
I guess that's why I'm writing. Because I want inspiration and figure that, in my writing, it will come.
And now I will write, getting over the fact that I can't flesh out this idea much more because I just need to write.
It's been a bumpy month, but I can't conceive of any better way to spend my weekend than in the mountains with my brothers and sisters in Christ. In ways I feel as though the month has climaxed with a bout of despair and is now reaching the dénouement of sorts. Conference will be a time to simply BE...a time to rest in Christ and Christian fellowship. My soul has been aching for this...this break not so much from school but from my racing mind and swirling fears. I was going to write about the latter, but I've changed my mind and am going to let it go...I've beat the subject to death, I've psychoanalyzed and overanalyzed and overcried and overfelt everything...and...it's...fragmenting...scattering. Screw how I feel and how I think and what I feel and what I think, because I know full well that my emotions are fickle. a whisper...Courtney, all that matters is that YOU are the bride of Christ, and that He not only knows about all your crap but has DIED for it and FORGIVEN it and has promised to provide. It's not dependent on how confident I am with photography or how well I "reach out" to other people or how productive I've been or how little sleep I've gotten because I'm so busy "doing God's work." and if I don't pray or read the Bible for a day, God will not love me any less, because He sees me AS CHRIST! Christ is in me and I am in him, and He will meet me in my despair or my frustration or my intense doubts about my 'performance' in this walk of life.
I thank God that it is not up to my strength. I thank God that He won't let any of these freaking idols that I am running after become my rock. I thank God for my troubles, even for my troubled mind...because it leads me back to Him. Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love...He is able.
Both are extremely valuable, and both are extremely hard to come by.
But how long does insipration, sweet inspiration, last once it comes? A week, a day, a minute?
Inspiration does not always come first.
I guess that's why I'm writing. Because I want inspiration and figure that, in my writing, it will come.
And now I will write, getting over the fact that I can't flesh out this idea much more because I just need to write.
It's been a bumpy month, but I can't conceive of any better way to spend my weekend than in the mountains with my brothers and sisters in Christ. In ways I feel as though the month has climaxed with a bout of despair and is now reaching the dénouement of sorts. Conference will be a time to simply BE...a time to rest in Christ and Christian fellowship. My soul has been aching for this...this break not so much from school but from my racing mind and swirling fears. I was going to write about the latter, but I've changed my mind and am going to let it go...I've beat the subject to death, I've psychoanalyzed and overanalyzed and overcried and overfelt everything...and...it's...fragmenting...scattering. Screw how I feel and how I think and what I feel and what I think, because I know full well that my emotions are fickle. a whisper...Courtney, all that matters is that YOU are the bride of Christ, and that He not only knows about all your crap but has DIED for it and FORGIVEN it and has promised to provide. It's not dependent on how confident I am with photography or how well I "reach out" to other people or how productive I've been or how little sleep I've gotten because I'm so busy "doing God's work." and if I don't pray or read the Bible for a day, God will not love me any less, because He sees me AS CHRIST! Christ is in me and I am in him, and He will meet me in my despair or my frustration or my intense doubts about my 'performance' in this walk of life.
Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. 3It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: "Let him who boasts boast in the Lord.
I thank God that it is not up to my strength. I thank God that He won't let any of these freaking idols that I am running after become my rock. I thank God for my troubles, even for my troubled mind...because it leads me back to Him. Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love...He is able.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
can't think of an adequate title
We are like well dressed hobos.
That's just a little insight from Ju. I like it.
Anyways, Week Two of Year Two of my Formal Education has ended, and it was so-so. Here are some of the good things that happened:
1. it rained. actually, it poured, thanks to oncoming Hurricane Ernesto. I was coming from my South American Culture class and realized that if I waited for the rain to let up, I would be in Phillips Hall for the next six hours, and that if I didn't wait I would get the oppportunity to play in the rain. It's really one of those special moments life throws at you that can cause some people to grumble, some people to despair, others to avoid the outdoors, and others to joyfully rejoice. I bolted outside without my shoes on, threw my head back, and let the rain pour down my face. I didn't run, but walked calmly, confidently, down campus. I felt like I was in a photograph with the background blurred grey from drag shutter, my body frozen in time.
2. I partook in a wonderful two-hour theological discussion about suffering after church on Sunday. I met three freshmen and two transfer students and one graduate med. student. We ate artichoke pizza.
3. Carolyn and I discovered the candy machines in Old East.
4. Carolyn introduced me to Seinfeld, the world's best TV show (after that 70's show, of course). Actually, we spent a whole evening together, which was one of the best evenings i've had all year. We worked out, took hot showers together (not in the same shower, haha), ate Pita Pit for dinner, watched Seinfeld, listened to 90's music, and pretty much enjoyed one another's company for eight hours straight. I was totally wired...it was one of those moments where you let your guard down completely and all inhibitions melt into oblilvion. I haven't laughed so hard since the Morehead City trip with Joe and Colleen.
5. I had my best day ever of shooting at the DTH. Three pictures published in one day!
6. I got to speak Spanish with a Mexican worker.
7. My U.S. History professor announced in his very British accent that his last name was "Quigley."
8. I got three free meals in two days. Yay for friends with meal plans and professors with cash.
9. I reconnected with Galen and Ricky and Natalie and other photo people that I am sometimes intimidated by. My J480 class is a wondeful mix of photographers...a 31 year old and some pretty talented undergrads. It's like a family....aww.
10. Writing this blog. I have missed writing so much that I have forgotten about how much I love it.
Some of the bad things that happened this week:
1. Doubts. Lots and lots of doubts. It's satan's way of creeping into my being and preventing me from giving my all to anything...whether it be relationships, photojournalism, my calling, sleep.
2. I stepped on my contact lens this morning.
3. My car wouldn't start...again. Which leads to number four.
4. I have to wake up in five hours to drive my car to Wake Forest for an appointment with the dealer.
5. I didn't pray very much or spend time in the Word. GAH. I know God's work in my life and in other people's lives isn't dependent on my actions, but I nonetheless have a responsibility that I am failing to carry out. And it hurts me that I can get so busy and bogged down with worry that I forget or rationalize my way out of prayer. I really miss God and those quiet times that marked the summer. the type of quiet times that would completely transform my state of mind or mood. pray that I can pray, basically. hopefully i'll utilize the long weekend accordingly...
I guess that's it. I don't want to think of other lowpoints.
The week was grey. So-so. But mostly grey from the rain. But still good. I like rain, remember?
Anyways, I think it's really cool that God has made people so DIFFERENTLY and with such care--esmero, in spanish--and beauty. I look at my friend Matt and amazed that his brain is so darn different than mine...that he is so rational and could love something like economics and business with such passion and dedication. I look at my friend Laura and marvel that God could create someone who has such a big heart and caring nature. Then I think of myself, and praise Him that he made me this way (even though at many points during the week I was angry/annoyed with his handiwork). I learn experientially and emotionally...I like that I am so emotional and that I feel things so deeply and crave experience. It used to be a vice, especially my senior year of high school, but when balanced it really edifies things. Especially with photojournalism. I don't learn by memorizing or by regurgitating or by rationalizing. I learn by images, really and think in images. fragments. I see things in my head...not concrete images, mind you. more like colors and hues that i translate into words and feelings. it comes out in my writing, I think, and this is why i have such a hard time conversing with people. I am a writer and an artist, not a talker and an arguer. And it can be so frustrating, but deep down...when i am doing those things that God created me to do, thinking the way he created me to think, writing the way he created me to write...I am so unbelievably in love with the way I am and the fact that God chose to make me that way. More power to Him!
And it's cool that God is teaching me how to be those things I'm not...how to listen better, how to communiate better, how to rest better.
I'll save my photojournalism ponderings for another entry.
Por ahora, tengo que acostarme. Descanso, descanso dulce, descanso.
That's just a little insight from Ju. I like it.
Anyways, Week Two of Year Two of my Formal Education has ended, and it was so-so. Here are some of the good things that happened:
1. it rained. actually, it poured, thanks to oncoming Hurricane Ernesto. I was coming from my South American Culture class and realized that if I waited for the rain to let up, I would be in Phillips Hall for the next six hours, and that if I didn't wait I would get the oppportunity to play in the rain. It's really one of those special moments life throws at you that can cause some people to grumble, some people to despair, others to avoid the outdoors, and others to joyfully rejoice. I bolted outside without my shoes on, threw my head back, and let the rain pour down my face. I didn't run, but walked calmly, confidently, down campus. I felt like I was in a photograph with the background blurred grey from drag shutter, my body frozen in time.
2. I partook in a wonderful two-hour theological discussion about suffering after church on Sunday. I met three freshmen and two transfer students and one graduate med. student. We ate artichoke pizza.
3. Carolyn and I discovered the candy machines in Old East.
4. Carolyn introduced me to Seinfeld, the world's best TV show (after that 70's show, of course). Actually, we spent a whole evening together, which was one of the best evenings i've had all year. We worked out, took hot showers together (not in the same shower, haha), ate Pita Pit for dinner, watched Seinfeld, listened to 90's music, and pretty much enjoyed one another's company for eight hours straight. I was totally wired...it was one of those moments where you let your guard down completely and all inhibitions melt into oblilvion. I haven't laughed so hard since the Morehead City trip with Joe and Colleen.
5. I had my best day ever of shooting at the DTH. Three pictures published in one day!
6. I got to speak Spanish with a Mexican worker.
7. My U.S. History professor announced in his very British accent that his last name was "Quigley."
8. I got three free meals in two days. Yay for friends with meal plans and professors with cash.
9. I reconnected with Galen and Ricky and Natalie and other photo people that I am sometimes intimidated by. My J480 class is a wondeful mix of photographers...a 31 year old and some pretty talented undergrads. It's like a family....aww.
10. Writing this blog. I have missed writing so much that I have forgotten about how much I love it.
Some of the bad things that happened this week:
1. Doubts. Lots and lots of doubts. It's satan's way of creeping into my being and preventing me from giving my all to anything...whether it be relationships, photojournalism, my calling, sleep.
2. I stepped on my contact lens this morning.
3. My car wouldn't start...again. Which leads to number four.
4. I have to wake up in five hours to drive my car to Wake Forest for an appointment with the dealer.
5. I didn't pray very much or spend time in the Word. GAH. I know God's work in my life and in other people's lives isn't dependent on my actions, but I nonetheless have a responsibility that I am failing to carry out. And it hurts me that I can get so busy and bogged down with worry that I forget or rationalize my way out of prayer. I really miss God and those quiet times that marked the summer. the type of quiet times that would completely transform my state of mind or mood. pray that I can pray, basically. hopefully i'll utilize the long weekend accordingly...
I guess that's it. I don't want to think of other lowpoints.
The week was grey. So-so. But mostly grey from the rain. But still good. I like rain, remember?
Anyways, I think it's really cool that God has made people so DIFFERENTLY and with such care--esmero, in spanish--and beauty. I look at my friend Matt and amazed that his brain is so darn different than mine...that he is so rational and could love something like economics and business with such passion and dedication. I look at my friend Laura and marvel that God could create someone who has such a big heart and caring nature. Then I think of myself, and praise Him that he made me this way (even though at many points during the week I was angry/annoyed with his handiwork). I learn experientially and emotionally...I like that I am so emotional and that I feel things so deeply and crave experience. It used to be a vice, especially my senior year of high school, but when balanced it really edifies things. Especially with photojournalism. I don't learn by memorizing or by regurgitating or by rationalizing. I learn by images, really and think in images. fragments. I see things in my head...not concrete images, mind you. more like colors and hues that i translate into words and feelings. it comes out in my writing, I think, and this is why i have such a hard time conversing with people. I am a writer and an artist, not a talker and an arguer. And it can be so frustrating, but deep down...when i am doing those things that God created me to do, thinking the way he created me to think, writing the way he created me to write...I am so unbelievably in love with the way I am and the fact that God chose to make me that way. More power to Him!
And it's cool that God is teaching me how to be those things I'm not...how to listen better, how to communiate better, how to rest better.
I'll save my photojournalism ponderings for another entry.
Por ahora, tengo que acostarme. Descanso, descanso dulce, descanso.
Monday, August 21, 2006
jumblyness
I sit in my corner of Old East residence hall at the university and am not sure what to write. The day has been a blur of faces new and old, things to buy and schedules to be made. And at midday, after buying posters for the room, catching up with an old suitemate, adding classes, dropping classes, and worrying as the riptide begins to strengthen, I wonder how on earth I will be able to continue at this pace once classes begin. I enjoyed myself for the first eight hours of the day, but as evening approached I began to walk in a haze, exhausted and wanting to just curl up in my cozy, lofted bed under my canopy and read C.S. Lewis and talk to Colleen on the phone.
I still have one foot in summer and the other in some foreign land that may be Chile or Spain or the future or the past, I’m not sure what. But it somehow prevents me from fully enjoying the present. Although I suppose my standards are too high, you have to admit it’s odd that nobody in collegetown factors in “boredom” or “fatigue” or “mediocrity” on the scale of life emotions. I think more than anything, the spiritual pace here is tiring. I am baffled at how so many students can go, go, go constantly, drinking and partying well into the morning, and constantly surround themselves with young people, rarely taking a moment to relax, unwind, call a parent, reconcile with a friend. I get caught up in this, too, so I am one to point fingers, but for some reason I am getting a bigger whiff of it this year than I have before. And this observation is not going to cause me to be ensnared by melancholia and depression, yet I still wonder why students are always smiling…so much that their mouths could not stretch any wider.
I wish I could see beneath all the layers. I can’t see through.
It’s really hard for me to apply different Christian principles to real life situations, even though I hold them true in my heart and mind. How do you show love to incoming freshmen, for instance? Is it simply smiling and telling them that you are here to answer any questions? I don’t know…it was this very superficial friendliness and southern “hospitality” that I was so befuddled by last year. I just wanted someone to listen to me, but I didn’t want to approach them…I didn’t know who to approach, after all. And I wanted someone to show and emotion other than giddiness. I feel like love entails a stronger, more active involvement. But how do I play this out?
I can pray for the incoming students. For the confused, the hurting, the lonely, the ones that are having problems with their roommates, the ones that are pulling out maps on the lower quad trying to find their way through a yellow school of fish. But when I get out of my dorm room, out into the real world, I get awkward.
College is fun, yes. Meeting new people is fun, yes. But for me, at least, a large chunk of it involves darting in and out of awkwardness. Trying to break down walls and recognize my own facades and strive for honesty in thinking and feeling and conveying such. At times I still feel like a middle school student.
I rejoice in the fact that God is willing to work with and through my awkwardness. Even though I don’t know how to use a compass or steer my way through college, God is going to help me overcome securities and fears and that the process will be pleasing in His sight. God is not finished with me yet and has promised to do good things. It comforts me to read the Psalms and know that even these great figures in Christian history and world history struggled in the daily grind of life. I particularly like how David and other psalmists start some of their psalms despairing, aware of their sin but unable to see God’s goodness. There is so much feeling and wrestling in those psalms, and in each on there is some sort of turning point. The psalmist goes to the sanctuary of God and finds tangible rest in Him. You can see the curtain being lifted and the light shining in as the psalm becomes less about the psalmist and more about God’s goodness. God works through the psalmists’ own jumbled emotions and thoughts and expression.
I have no idea where this post is going. I’m tired and need to go to sleep. I don’t even know if it had an over-arching theme.
I’ll end it with one of my favorite verses, as of July:
The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me;
your love, O LORD, endures forever—
do not abandon the works of your hands.
psalm 138
I still have one foot in summer and the other in some foreign land that may be Chile or Spain or the future or the past, I’m not sure what. But it somehow prevents me from fully enjoying the present. Although I suppose my standards are too high, you have to admit it’s odd that nobody in collegetown factors in “boredom” or “fatigue” or “mediocrity” on the scale of life emotions. I think more than anything, the spiritual pace here is tiring. I am baffled at how so many students can go, go, go constantly, drinking and partying well into the morning, and constantly surround themselves with young people, rarely taking a moment to relax, unwind, call a parent, reconcile with a friend. I get caught up in this, too, so I am one to point fingers, but for some reason I am getting a bigger whiff of it this year than I have before. And this observation is not going to cause me to be ensnared by melancholia and depression, yet I still wonder why students are always smiling…so much that their mouths could not stretch any wider.
I wish I could see beneath all the layers. I can’t see through.
It’s really hard for me to apply different Christian principles to real life situations, even though I hold them true in my heart and mind. How do you show love to incoming freshmen, for instance? Is it simply smiling and telling them that you are here to answer any questions? I don’t know…it was this very superficial friendliness and southern “hospitality” that I was so befuddled by last year. I just wanted someone to listen to me, but I didn’t want to approach them…I didn’t know who to approach, after all. And I wanted someone to show and emotion other than giddiness. I feel like love entails a stronger, more active involvement. But how do I play this out?
I can pray for the incoming students. For the confused, the hurting, the lonely, the ones that are having problems with their roommates, the ones that are pulling out maps on the lower quad trying to find their way through a yellow school of fish. But when I get out of my dorm room, out into the real world, I get awkward.
College is fun, yes. Meeting new people is fun, yes. But for me, at least, a large chunk of it involves darting in and out of awkwardness. Trying to break down walls and recognize my own facades and strive for honesty in thinking and feeling and conveying such. At times I still feel like a middle school student.
I rejoice in the fact that God is willing to work with and through my awkwardness. Even though I don’t know how to use a compass or steer my way through college, God is going to help me overcome securities and fears and that the process will be pleasing in His sight. God is not finished with me yet and has promised to do good things. It comforts me to read the Psalms and know that even these great figures in Christian history and world history struggled in the daily grind of life. I particularly like how David and other psalmists start some of their psalms despairing, aware of their sin but unable to see God’s goodness. There is so much feeling and wrestling in those psalms, and in each on there is some sort of turning point. The psalmist goes to the sanctuary of God and finds tangible rest in Him. You can see the curtain being lifted and the light shining in as the psalm becomes less about the psalmist and more about God’s goodness. God works through the psalmists’ own jumbled emotions and thoughts and expression.
I have no idea where this post is going. I’m tired and need to go to sleep. I don’t even know if it had an over-arching theme.
I’ll end it with one of my favorite verses, as of July:
The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me;
your love, O LORD, endures forever—
do not abandon the works of your hands.
psalm 138
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
