Saturday, December 5, 2009


I wonder as I wander out under the sky,
How Jesus the Savior did come for to die.
For ordinary people like you and like I...
I wonder as I wander out under the sky.

When Mary birthed Jesus 'twas in a cow's stall,
With wise men and farmers and shepherds and all.
But high from God's heaven a star's light did fall,
And the promise of ages it then did recall.

If Jesus had wanted for any wee thing,
A star in the sky, or a bird on the wing,
Or all of God's angels in heav'n for to sing,
He surely could have it, 'cause he was the King.

my church put out a christmas cd last year and it was amazing.

Josh White of Telecast leads worship there and of course he sang...

you can download it HERE:

I Wonder as I Wander is my favorite christmas song... and on this cd i love THAT one and The Friendly Beasts

if you like music at all...


and jesus...


Thursday, December 3, 2009

snippits of christmas songs.

...that i love

Hope that you don't mind our manger
How I wish we would have known
But long-awaited Holy Stranger
Make Yourself at home

Truly He taught us To love one another;
His law is love And His gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break For the slave is our brother;
And in His name All oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy In grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us Praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! O praise His Name forever,
His power and glory Evermore proclaim.
His power and glory Evermore proclaim.

How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given !
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of His heaven.
No ear may hear His coming;
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive Him still,
The dear Christ enters in.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot
and never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot
and days of Auld Lang Syne.

For Auld Lang Syne, my dear,
for Auld Lang Syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet
for Auld Lang Syne.

Children,Good Christian men, rejoice With heart and soul and voice; Give ye heed to what we say: News! News!

Go, tell it on the mountain Over the hills and everywhere
Go, tell it on the mountain
That Jesus Christ is born.

Still through the cloven skies they come with peaceful wings unfurl And still their heavenly music floats, O'er all the weary world. Above its sad and lowly plains they bend on hovering wing And ever o'er its Babel sounds the blessed angels sing.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Monday, November 16, 2009

psalm 16

keep me safe, o God,
for in you I take refuge.

i said to the Lord, "you are my lord;
apart from you I have no good thing."
as for the saints who are in the land,
they are the glorious ones in whom
is all my delight.
The sorrows of those will increase who run after other gods.
I will not pour out their libations of blood
or take up their names on my lips.

Lord, you have assigned me my portion
and my cup:
you have made my lot secure.
the boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance.

I will praise the Lord, who counsels me;
even at night my heart instructs me.
I have set the Lord always before me.
Because he is at my right hand,
I will not be shaken.

Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices;
my body also will rest secure,
because you will not abandon me to the grave,
nor will you let your Holy One see decay.
You have made known to me the path of life;
you will fill me with joy in your presence,
with eternal pleasures at your right hand.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009


Lord Save Us From Your Followers.

coming to Orange County soon.

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Saturday, September 12, 2009

in case you didn't know...
i post here now:


Sunday, July 26, 2009

I've just met an old friend for the first time.

T. H. White's  THE ONCE & FUTURE KING is my new favorite book.

i enjoy many novels and smile at the characters and the language...
but the stories that are my friends... not mere acquaintances seem to be ones that i don't know anyone else has read...

obviously they are classics...
but no one takes the time to read them anymore...
at least not of my friends.

pass the port.

i absolutely love this book and i'm only to the IVth chapter.

my imagination "took flight" while reading it and has grown to weigh 4 kilos more than it did before checking this book out.
i want to drive up to the big cemetary tomorrow morning and spread out a blanket and read.

something about heaven that i love thinking about is that there are friends i do not know yet.

people who wrote some of my favorite books may be there...
people who were in the bible and people from other countries who speak different languages...
people i've never met may be my best friends...

thats sort of how i feel about books that are SO me.

its like this deep connection of magic thread tying our souls together.
as you read you just find so much delight in finding yourself in the pages and knowing you were there before your eyes glimpsed the pages....

i've been here before! my brain exclaims as i pass by the words.

i've grown to understand the things in this book before i ever read it...
and they so much define who i am its as though i'm reading my own adventures.

i love it.

merlyn is my hero.
and archimedes is my best friend.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

tuesday night bible study

made these today for the college group bible study
i'm working on ideas for saturday's & thursdays.... but they aren't as cool as this one yet.

Monday, July 13, 2009


running at the track 2 miles today.
come back & shower.
clean room/fold laundry.
eat lunch.
check music blogs and GET FREEEEE things.
call andrea and hear about alaska.
schedule for school.
read up on nietsche's return theory.
quilt? pillows? scarf/ hankie pillows.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

HAKEN man.

maaaaan alive this guy is a talker.  
JEEZE what is he even talking about...

i'm sitting in this meeting and mike is trying to get this guy to start to condense his words... 
he interupts him like every 2 minutes to try and refocus.

its gettttttting ridiculous.
i'm sooo bored.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

i'm going to jr high camp now


on one hand i'm sorta nervous because i hope my attitude doesn't get the better of me.

i'm don't agree with the speakers teaching style.  
honestly i think he's horrible for children and i would not want my children to be mentored by someone who feels the need to make christianity into a big joke in order to force feed it to people.

sure : a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down... la la laa

but Christianity's "sugar" or whatever is going to be THE LOVE OF JESUS period...
you don't need to sell stupid tee shirts that read "fart on the devil" or wear a rubber chicken on your head to get kids to want Jesus.

(sorry ill stop... i'm on a "relevancy" soap box)
i just don't like being treated like an ingrate because i'm young... and i don't like seeing people do it to kids younger than me either.

it makes me wonder if HE found Jesus because someone made a fool out of themselves and only gave them placental liquid when they needed something almost solid food wise.

if so ill eat my words.

of COURSE i know that God always moves at camp...
he moved the last year this guy spoke and he'll move again... 
theres far too many people who are head over heels in love with jesus helping for it to be lost on the kids...

but it just makes me sad because how much better would chapel be if the speaker was someone who understood the place children have in Gods kingdom and preached out of that?

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Tis' a truth universally acknowledged...

watching Becoming Jane depresses me.  
you have to though.  its so bittersweet and you need that sometimes...
but now it must be counteracted by some pride & prejudice.

i would do mansfield... but i don't own that one yet.

Monday, June 15, 2009


ok... i'm sorry but i find it super weird how many professional models come out of sunset high school..

kerry degman.. yeah that was weird.

 but then theres just like 15 random girls from ALL over the board who are like in magazines.
thats weird.
i'm sorry... but its weird for me.

like julia ohman... WHO KNEW?  just weirds me out kinda that theres people who really do modeling and its liek normal.. that seems so abnormal to me.  idkdidkdidkdikdidd 


i'm a lazeeeeey girl on mondays.

it may not be for the best that my room is the most peaceful place in the entire world because it means i can lay on my bed and read and stare out the window... or at the walls because the shadows are equally as beautiful.

its PRETTTTTY bad.

oh tielli is here. love him.

Friday, June 12, 2009

things i'm pondering.

blindness :
something no one wants to happen to them.
blind people in scripture are healed in ways similar to sickness.
blindness is often used to signal in literature the person who "sees" clearest.
people who were healed of their blindness saw Jesus WITHOUT seeing him... and then when healed the first thing they saw was his face.
people who are blind and love jesus will see him when they die and he will be the first thing they see.

withered and cracked bones :
jon wallace told me to "just stay withered for a while"
i underlined several psalms (including 51... which is following Davids sin with Bathsheba) that use the word "withered" and "cracked bones"
apparently when a sheep wandered away from its shepherd ... into the hills where the wolves are the shepherd would leave the flock behind and search for the lost lamb.  upon finding the sheep lost and in the hills he would break all four of its legs and then tenderly place the bleeding sheep over his shoulders and carry it home.  As the sheep remained around its masters neck for the next several months it would heal, until when it was finally ready to walk again.  This sheep who had been properly disciplined would never leave the shepherds side.

i got this image of a straightjacket ... which has always been a sign of horror for me... likely due to films and television shows...
but this time the phrase of "a merciful straightjacket" appeared in my head... and thats what they are aren't they?  humanities restraint so people cannot hurt themselves or others.
i was incredibly disturbed in reading The Red Tent at a part where following the murder of her husband Dinah begins to claw at her own neck until blood flows.
Her mother in law and the woman's brother have to restrain her in order to keep her from hurting herself... even in the night when she is dreaming... she needs their control.
i'm so distracted sometimes that its like i need someone who understands my add to come and just grab my head and make me focus.... i need a sort of merciful straightjacket so i will stop clawing at my own neck and doing damage to myself through these painful distractions.

was God's themed message for me tonight.

The Way was super good, with a simple straightforward and much needed sermon on what exactly sin is... how we do it... how we avoid confronting it... and why it is that we need Jesus... and finally, what he does FOR us that we must accept to be made whole.

But God really wanted to emphasize for me in these three different images that there are things he does that can appear restraining in a horrible way but are really because he is like my loving father screaming at me to keep out of the street.

I realized that i could be blind.... i choose it... it would be a blessing... in this case it seemed to pertain more to my "knowledge" and all that i already seem to KNOW about the lord that BLINDS me to who he is and what he wants to do for me... so in asking for him to gouge out my eyes i am asking for him to give me true sight and to guide me with something other than what i'm used to... to make me uncomfortable and forced to rely on him.

I realized that i want to be crippled.  I want to be draped around the Shepherds neck because that sheep is closest to him.  Thomas is constantly rebuked by the church for his doubt ... but it is THOMAS that is invited INTO Christ's wounds... to come in and touch them and experience physically Jesus.  I want Jesus to break off the branches that aren't bearing good fruit and showing people HIM.  I want him to cripple my legs and walk for me... drape me over his shoulders and keep me closest.  
this helped me understand so much better why the Lord desires contrite and broken hearts.  cause thats what ... here on earth... gets us closest to him.

I realized I want the Lord to tie my hands behind my back and secure my mind on him.  I want a merciful straightjacket that will pin me to my seat and force my eyes to look on the cross.  I want to experience the firm discipline that only a MUCH LOVED child receives.  And I want to be kept from hurting myself and destroying the building blocks the Lord wants to use to build himself up inside me with.

i want to be bound, tied, gagged, and blinded because i KNOW that Jesus is the best thing in the world and if my flesh would just stop being so ridiculous i could experience him.

i asked the lord
so God... no job this summer?
i guess thats cool with me.

this is how my week goes:
church with chris at solid rock
eat with family (save $$)
maybe do sunday night at 6
read and work on art

hang out with my mom/pilates/bike ride/resale shop/artwork/read/

hang out with my mom/pilates/bike ride/resale shop/artwork/read/
usually play with edward/amoeble/tielli

hang out with my mom/pilates/bike ride/resale shop/artwork/read/
high school group -lord give me patience

hang out with my mom/pilates/bike ride/resale shop/artwork/read/
Door of Hope
(possibly going to start helping with childcare)
make friends please lord?

hang out with my mom/pilates/bike ride/resale shop/artwork/read/
Solid Rock / nightstrike with door of hope guys

mah friends.
i'm going to try and be on the east side exploring at least once a week.... 
i figure if i'm going to be investing in church there... might as well KNOW everywhere.
the mission/ with door hope guys

begin again.

mostly: its me doing artwork... lounging and pondering and contemplating.
and then going out to hardxcore serve people...
which i'm totally down with...
if i have time to read and relax and think... i can better love on others.

i have to be loved to love.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

yes... i do know what music i want at my wedding

wedding songs:
i plan on having a full orchestra... and brent mills... cause not anyone can handle park on piano... :)

as guests enter: skipping rope  & entering the garden by Zbiegnew Priesner
&  Just Make Believe by Patrick Doyle  (yes there is a sitar)

processional:  the park on piano by

(but i wish i could ALSO have "Shows Dickon Garden"  by Zbiegnew Priesner 

Communion & Worship: Happily Ever After Zbiegnew Priesner

Outwards Processional: Times A Waistin' by Johnny Cash & June Carter Cash

the park on piano : jan a. kazscmarek

i've realized why i'm losing friends.

...they are growing up.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

fav song.

i've got peace like a river i've got peace like a river i've got peace like a river in my soooooouuuuul
makes me sing hallelujah makes me sing hallelujah makes me sing hallelujah in my soul!

i've got joy like a fountain i've got joy like a fountain i've got joy like a fountain in my souuuuuullllll
makes me sing hallelujah makes me sing hallelujah makes me sing hallelujah in my soul!


(cue sweet harmonica/banjo breakdown & jam session)

Friday, June 5, 2009

i love jimmy stewart.

i forget.
and then i watch him and i just fall in love all over again.
why is no one like him in real life?
so quick witted and delightful and charming and sweet.
with his wonderful husky voice.

also:  the way men dressed in the 30's.
GOOD GOLLY.  i'm extremely attracted to it.

oh lordy.

we'll just leave it at that.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

tut tutt.

lookin like rain.

art projects going swimmingly.

-drawings of girl and boy scan and edit.
-finish anna's beard
-start quilt (yeah thats right i'm making a quilt.... out of these fans made out of 60's prints that my great grandmother put together years ago).

last night i had this idea in bed of a girl with rams horns... hair spread all over the canvas space... holding baby pigs with poppies and other flowers filling up all negative space.

Monday, June 1, 2009

to love. be loved

in order to love other people...
you must allow yourself to be loved on.

it doesn't have to be by humans.

allow yourself to enjoy the embrace of an armchair.
take notice of grass blades that cushion your feet.
close your eyes and experience wind.
sun is better than a blanket.

be loved on.
so you can love.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Door of Hope

door of hope is the exact church I've always wanted to be a part of.
also: it is ridiculously close to simon ... so i can hang out with him resulting in more convincing strategies of dragging him through the doors.

honestly: i want this to be my new home church and i want to listen to josh white every week.
he pushes me more than any other teacher.
his simplicity, rawness, and intelligence are an exact fit.
he really pushes to be close to the lord and to seek him in ALL things.

its things like this that make me annoyed that i'm in a season of learning and i have to return to apu and with that california... :/
i want to stay in my favorite city and serve the people who live here.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009


i rediscovered this book... 
i would like to have it purchased and on my shelf.

i LOOOOOOOVVVVVVEEEEEEEE these illustrations.  


author:  wil huygen

illustrator:  rien poortvliet,

i wish the soderburg sisters lived in my pocket.
or that i could hide them under a pile of leaves in my backyard... 
and have them play and sing for me.  

their songs are my reason to thank God for ears today.


i have the inclination to make

fabric bows
fringe and beads
more feathers
little ribbons
felt beards.
leather pouches for two.

Monday, May 25, 2009

people are flawed.

thats for certain.

and sometimes people you think are great and love very much stop caring about you.

and thats where it becomes confusing.... is it the right thing to go on loving them unconditionally...  or is that abusive to oneself?
or is it right to call them out and ask them to do for you what you do for them?
or is that selfish?


live spherically:  shooting out new roots in all directions at the same time.
then... things will come to you.

its pretty true.

today i: looked up and saw shapes on my wall 
the shadow outline of the hydrangea outside of my window...

so i stuck some paper up and traced it.

then i took another sheet and drew a bunch of triangles.

then i painted those triangles.

and beautifully balanced: the piece is on my wall.

i watched Our Mutual Friend.

and folded dozens of white paper triangles... making shapes to fold and create 3d organic/amorphous / sharp edged/ mountain like shapes.

then i used paper that i painted to look like wood and covered some of the triangles.

then i threw those aside cause i couldn't do them right.

then i went outside and took a tree branch that i found and cut out of different green felts: leaves.

then i sowed them to the tree branch and nailed it into my wall.


that was a successful project.

then i made my first felt beard.

i plan on forcing my mother to take a picture of me with it on tomorrow. 

also: my metabolism is screwed up... THAT needs to get fixed.

but i don't really mind all that much.

i'm sending out green shoots in all different directions....
i'm extremely inspired. 
and i don't want it to pass me by.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

The Mysterious Benedict Society

after reading 1. the time travelers wife 2. extremely loud and incredibly close

i am now half way through The Mysterious Benedict Society.

this book... ROCKS.  its like all the joys of harry potter type stories:  orphan children who are unimportant to the world suddenly discovering they are extremely talented and KEY to something big.

all the joys of roald dahl's writing style: especially Constance... who is freaking hilarious.

all the joys of lemony snicket: group of children who face a lot of evil people and aren't ever believed because they are simply children.

idk its just GREAT.
its not a like... SIMPLE read... though it is for children... its intriguing and enjoyable... and even though it does probe my mind intellectually idk... its just soooo good. :)

i'm going to finish it quickly and hand it off to meaghan and go pick up the next one.

also question:  is michelle still my friend?

my attitude.

i'm fine lizzy,  at least now we can meet as indifferent acquaintances.
no you cannot be so simple as to think me in danger now.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

"i'm quite caught up"... / "i've failed you"...

extremely loud and incredibly close is such a tender... beautifully written novel.

jonathan safran foer is really quite wonderful.

i'd like to pick apart his mind... like purse or a toolbox... take all the items out... wipe the bottom and sides with a clean cloth and then carefully place the items back in... one at a time.. turning them over in my hand and observing each one.

the part i just read...
the letter of the grandfather to his son in which he describes asking his equally neglected wife to write her story down on the type writer...
only to discover when the woman brings him in to read it...
all 2000 pages of her story...
that he tore the ribbon out years ago... out of his fury of not being able to marry Anna... not being able to forget her...

the grandmothers inability to see well kept her from realizing that all of her efforts were for nothing...
2000 empty pages...

i know i described absolutely nothing to whoever is reading this...
but on page 120 of this novel is one of the most gentle but terrible moments i've ever read.
its written so well that i don't know quite what to do with it.

and i keep going over it in my head.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

my dayyyyy

simon called today.
3 hour long phone conversation...
i discovered he called me at 3 oclock AM in japan.
he's nuts.

i really miss that kid.
even as weird as some of the things he says are.
and he's honestly more encouraging than a lot of my other friends have been as of late.

i'm working on this drawing.
its looking really good.
i want to do a HUGE one with like 80 billion characters all doing things.

i went and turned in my app at world cup coffee... man that guy likes me... we just chat and chat and joke around...
also the art they have in there SUCKS.
that lady is terrible...

the guy behind the counter draws some amazing stuff though...

i'd like to get my stuff up in there someday.

then i went over and applied at platos... which is probably the only place that will call back cause they are the only people hiring right now... which sorta sucks cause i have zero desire to work for them.

but i mean... i'd rather have money than anything else.

well my dignity.
thats why i'm not a prostitute.

ummmmm oh ahahaha.. simon confided that he had actually contemplated prostitution as a way of coming home.
he has no way of getting home so people in the states are having fundraisers to raise money so he can get home by july and not be deported.


stupid kid.

welllll.. oh and then i turned in my APPs at Urban and World Market.

urban seems actually sorta interested every time i talk to someone... and they always ask how immediate you can work which makes me wonder if they are for real hiring...
but the problem is i have no retail experience which makes me nervous.

i guess if i worked at platos' this summer i could work at urban over winter break and follow that up wiht the much more likely possibility of anthropologies internship for next summer...
working at urban in the afternoon/evenings and decorating in anthro in the early morning.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

recluse kid continued.

i mentioned the recluse thing at dinner tonight.

which was the only the second significant parting i had made with my bed all day... the first being to take a shower and the significant part marking that there were several small moments where i excused myself... but those were solely to make the  bed experience more enjoyable.

... like the time at about 4 that i got up and made toast

the whole brain in the wagon thing didn't go so hot.

my mom howled for a couple seconds and my dad snickered and said

yeah, well if you don't get out of that bed your brain won't be the only thing that needs to be carried around in a wagon.

it was right around then that i decided my dad is just about the funniest guy around and that he definitely is not an annoying dad who tells dumb jokes.

either my dads jokes are too clever for me.
or they are at my expense and i just wish i hadnt gotten them.

birdseed shirt.

by Gustav Mahler.
so beautiful... i have a new favorite classical music era.  post romanticism.

reading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.

sort of laughing...
sometimes it bothers me how jonathan safran foer's style is so pretentious.... at least Niffenegger had the decency to be human.

also...  there are no jobs in our city.
ive applied to about 15 places... that seem all over the spectrum if you ask me...
ive dug deep.

but you look on craigslist and its like.... DEAD.

plus it doesnt even matter if you have a degree... thats not what they want...
they need people who have bussed tables before.
they need people who are sioux chefs.
they need people who can pack up and move to some god forsaken joint in southern oregon to teach pre schoolers... WHY ON EARTH is that on the portland listing?

everywhere i apply they just sorta look at you sadly...

why would they give me a job when 500 people just got laid off from Nike and more from Intel?

Chevron and a bunch of car places had to let people go too...

i'm sorta trying to decide if it wouldn't just be better to sit inside my room all summer and read.

i'm becoming quite good at it.
if i don't spend money...
i dont need money.

if i don't hand out with people... and become a recluse... reading and growing a brain so huge my room can barely contain it... 
welllllll i don't need need to spend money.

i  can walk across the street pulling my brain in a red wagon behind me while I head over to the library...

id read RILKE, DOSTOEVSKY, L'ENGLE, and listen to music from before my birth.

waiting shell...

i finished The Time Travelers Wife again...

my nose opens and closes, flinching like a bunnies while i let the water spill over the brims of my eyes.

the ending of that story is so perfect.
so heart rendingly perfect.

i can't handle the parts of stories that you already love, that you already know before youve finished the first sentence of the paragraph...
you force yourself to gulp the rest of the words down but they are mute... 

they already exposed their fruit to you and now they lay open and exposed like a barren womb....

the new life writhing in your mind as you stare out the window...

and then its so difficult to read the passage out of Homer that follows....
imagining Odyssius reaching Penelope on the shore.

the great loves of the world are all connected...

the same two people...

man and woman...

being reborn again and again...

more human than any of us....

and we are all searching to be enfleshed...

that we might be born into the right time and that THIS time... one of the great lovers might inhabit our vessel...

that we might take part in a great story.

Monday, May 18, 2009

just now.

i'm lying on my back in the dark listening to the gurgles and slops of rain outside my window.

and its just about the grandest thing ever.

the mail came.

i'm listening to Bridges and Balloons.  (trying to get in the rarely listened to decemberists songs)

i'm naming the bike Percival.

... on the table there is an unopened letter from Oxford.


more and more i feel like i'm living in the wrong part of town.
im buying this little girl:
i am not a huge pink person... but i kinda like it.
its understated... 

its not Falcor...
but she's like the accompanying side kick type who will lead me to him and then sacrifice herself valiantly when i have to rescue him and it leads to a bloody battle.
she isn't fixed.  and i'm proud... maybe she'll have children then.

and today all i've been doing is listening to stories: hazards of love, eli the barrow boy, peter and the wolf, the emperor and the nightingale... 

i just bought The Mysterious Benedict Society, which i forgot that i'd been looking for until i stumbled upon it.  
(that would be a good requirement for an island shrouded in fog:  you can only find it once your forget your looking for it).
or maybe that would be a good requirement for a book: which is exactly what happened.

i wanted it originally because Carson Ellis did all the illustrations... and since I cannot afford her prints I should take advantage of this tangible piece of artwork.

but now i'm more intrigued because it is a new york times best seller and has been compared to roald dahl and lemony snicket or a new more sophisticated harry potter.

i'm totally in the mood for a read like that.

i've been rereading The Time Travelers wife... and its whimsical... but i want something fresh... 

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is supposed to be next but i think i'm going to swap it.

Then the History of Love.

i'm really excited for all of this.

but i can't keep my head in the clouds too long because i need to find a job.

i'm sorta stressed out because of how few are available right now.

no one is hiring. sighhh

i just discovered Rilke

how weird... to discover things you like for the first time..

its been a while.

The First Elegy
Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels' hierarchies?

and even if one of them pressed me suddenly against his heart:
I would be consumed in that overwhelming existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror, which we are still just able to endure,
and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Every angel is terrifying.
And so I hold myself back and swallow the call-note of my dark sobbing.
Ah, whom can we ever turn to in our need?
Not angels, not humans, and already the knowing animals are aware
that we are not really at home in our interpreted world.
Perhaps there remains for us some tree on a hillside, which every day we can take into our vision;
there remains for us yesterday's street and the loyalty of a habit so much at ease
when it stayed with us that it moved in and never left.
Oh and night: there is night, when a wind full of infinite space gnaws at our faces.
Whom would it not remain for--that longed-after, mildly disillusioning presence,
which the solitary heart so painfully meets.
Is it any less difficult for lovers?
But they keep on using each other to hide their own fate.
Don't you know yet
Fling the emptiness out of your arms into the spaces we breathe;
perhaps the birds will feel the expanded air with more passionate flying.

Yes--the springtimes needed you. Often a star was waiting for you to notice it.
A wave rolled toward you out of the distant past, 

or as you walked under an open window, a violin yielded itself to your hearing.
All this was mission. But could you accomplish it?
Weren't you always distracted by expectation, as if every event announced a beloved?
(Where can you find a place to keep her, with all the huge strange thoughts inside you
going and coming and often staying all night.)
But when you feel longing, sing of women in love; for their famous passion is still not immortal.
Sing of women abandoned and desolate (you envy them, almost)
who could love so much more purely than those who were gratified.
Begin again and again the never-attainable praising; remember: the hero lives on; 
even his downfall was merely a pretext for achieving his final birth.
But Nature, spent and exhausted, takes lovers back into herself,
as if there were not enough strength to create them a second time.
Have you imagined Gaspara Stampa intensely enough 
so that any girl deserted by her beloved might be inspired by that fierce example of soaring,
objectless love and might say to herself, "Perhaps I can be like her?"
Shouldn't this most ancient of sufferings finally grow more fruitful for us?
Isn't it time that we lovingly freed ourselves from the beloved and,
quivering, endured: as the arrow endures the bowstring's tension,
so that gathered in the snap of release it can be more than itself.
For there is no place where we can remain.

Voices. Voices. Listen, my heart, as only saints have listened: 

until the gigantic call lifted them off the ground;
yet they kept on, impossibly, kneeling and didn't notice at all: so complete was their listening.
Not that you could endure God's voice--far from it.
But listen to the voice of the wind and the ceaseless message that forms itself out of silence.
It is murmuring toward you now from those who died young.
Didn't their fate, whenever you stepped into a church in Naples or Rome,
quietly come to address you?
Or high up, some eulogy entrusted you with a mission,
as, last year, on the plaque in Santa Maria Formosa.
What they want of me is that I gently remove the appearance of injustice about their death--
which at times slightly hinders their souls from proceeding onward.

Of course, it is strange to inhabit the earth no longer,

to give up customs one barely had time to learn,
not to see roses and other promising Things in terms of a human future;
no longer to be what one was in infinitely anxious hands;
to leave even one's own first name behind,
forgetting it as easily as a child abandons a broken toy.
Strange to no longer desire one's desires.
Strange to see meanings that clung together once, floating away in every direction.
And being dead is hard work and full of retrieval before one can gradually feel a trace of eternity.
Though the living are wrong to believe in the too-sharp distinctions which
they themselves have created.
Angels (they say) don't know whether it is the living they are moving among, or the dead.
The eternal torrent whirls all ages along in it, through both realms forever, 
and their voices are drowned out in its thunderous roar.

In the end, those who were carried off early no longer need us:

they are weaned from earth's sorrows and joys,
as gently as children outgrow the soft breasts of their mothers.
But we, who do need such great mysteries,
we for whom grief is so often the source of our spirit's growth--:
could we exist without them?
Is the legend meaningless that tells how, in the lament for Linus,
the daring first notes of song pierced through the barren numbness;
and then in the startled space which a youth as lovely as a god has suddenly left forever, 
the Void felt for the first time that harmony which now enraptures and comforts and helps us.

The Second Elegy
Every angel is terrifying. And yet, alas, I invoke you,

almost deadly birds of the soul, knowing about you.
Where are the days of Tobias, when one of you, veiling his radiance, 
stood at the front door, slightly disguised for the journey, no longer appalling;
(a young man like the one who curiously peeked through the window).
But if the archangel now, perilous, from behind the stars took even one step down toward us:
our own heart, beating higher and higher, would beat us to death.
Who are you?

Early successes, Creation's pampered favorites,

mountain-ranges, peaks growing red in the dawn of all beginning,--
pollen of the flowering godhead, joints of pure light, 
corridors, stairways, thrones, space formed from essence,
shields made of ecstasy, storms of emotion whirled into rapture, and suddenly alone:
mirrors, which scoop up the beauty that has streamed from their face
and gather it back, into themselves, entire.

But we, when moved by deep feeling, evaporate; we breathe ourselves out and away; 

from moment to moment our emotion grows fainter, like a perfume.
Though someone may tell us: "Yes, you've entered my bloodstream, the room,
the whole springtime is filled with you . . . "--what does it matter? he can't contain us, 
we vanish inside him and around him.
And those who are beautiful, oh who can retain them? 
Appearance ceaselessly rises in their face, and is gone.
Like dew from the morning grass, what is ours floats into the air, like steam from a dish of hot food.
O smile, where are you going? 
O upturned glance: new warm receding wave on the sea of the heart . . .
alas, but that is what we are.
Does the infinite space we dissolve into, taste of us then?
Do the angels really reabsorb only the radiance that streamed out from themselves,
or sometimes, as if by an oversight, is there a trace of our essence in it as well?
Are we mixed in with their features even as slightly as that vague look
in the faces of pregnant women?
They do not notice it (how could they notice) in their swirling return to themselves.

Lovers, if they knew how, might utter strange, marvelous words in the night air.
For it seems that everything hides us.
Look: trees do exist; the houses that we live in still stand.
We alone fly past all things, as fugitive as the wind.
And all things conspire to keep silent about us, half out of shame perhaps, half as unutterable hope.

Lovers, gratified in each other, I am asking you about us.
You hold each other. Where is your proof?
Look, sometimes I find that my hands have become aware of each other,

or that my time-worn face shelters itself inside them.
That gives me a slight sensation.
But who would dare to exist, just for that?
You, though, who in the other's passion grow until, overwhelmed, he begs you:
"No more . . . "; you who beneath his hands swell with abundance,
like autumn grapes; you who may disappear because the other has wholly emerged:
I am asking you about us.
I know, you touch so blissfully because the caress preserves, 
because the place you so tenderly cover does not vanish;
because underneath it you feel pure duration.
So you promise eternity, almost, from the embrace.
And yet, when you have survived the terror of the first glances, 
the longing at the window, and the first walk together, once only, through the garden:
lovers, are you the same? 
When you lift yourselves up to each other's mouth and your lips join,
drink against drink: oh how strangely each drinker seeps away from his action.

Weren't you astonished by the caution of human gestures on Attic gravestones?
Wasn't love and departure placed so gently on shoulders 

that it seemed to be made of a different substance than in our world?
Remember the hands, how weightlessly they rest, though there is power in the torsos.
These self-mastered figures know: "We can go this far,
this is ours, to touch one another this lightly; the gods can press down harder upon us. 
But that is the gods' affair."

If only we too could discover a pure, contained, human place,

our own strip of fruit-bearing soil between river and rock.
Four our own heart always exceeds us, as theirs did.
And we can no longer follow it, 
gazing into images that soothe it or into the godlike bodies where,
measured more greatly, it achieves a greater repose.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Saturday, May 16, 2009

At some point I plan on having a library.

many of you know this.

i don't necessarily want it to be open to ANYONE... mostly my children, nieces & nephews, and the occasional stray cellist who needs a place to stay for the night.

(interjection: i love josh updike.... just called... and made me laugh harder than i have in a long time... praise the lord for his persuit of that boy)


i want to have this library...

and across the double doors I want to write in large forest green calligraphy (which will look beautiful against the dark brown stain)  

The Tree House

all swirly and huge...
like the artwork in Rudy's.

and i want to refer to it as such...

"mom! Phone for you!"

"I'm in the tree house!"



harrrr (pirate hook stabbing at the air)  
today i took captive 
1. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
2. Gone with The Wind on VHS
3. 60 years of Illustrations By NORMAN ROCKWELL
4. The Art of Lisbeth Twerger
5. My, Magic, and Mystery, One Hundred Years of American Children's Book Illustration

I set free several folk art books and one on figure drawing ... The Time Travelers Wife remains in my cabin.... still enjoying it.

its amazing how much more knowledge you have available to you when your ships motherland is next to the cedar mill library.

praise God for books.

Friday, May 15, 2009

i won't lie...
if no one goes to the way tonight.. .
i'm going to be extremely sad.


hahahaa... get it... like bawlin = crying uncontrollably.
and ballin= being a downright cool cat.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009


i'm sitting back here folding cranes and micah comes in asking for me...

"someone's here to see you..."

edward comes nervously around to my doorway.

he's missing his two front teeth and he's sorta doing that blank little kid expectant stare...

he brought me his cup of animal cookies from church tonight.

(my heart is sooo full)

i gave him a hug and showed him my cranes and let him pick... 

he chose the only large white one.

i love edward so much.
he is my favorite.

i walked him out to the car so i could say hi to everyone else...

they are so adorable...
everyone so excited to see me and shouting...
anita OF COURSE kept shouting about how different i looked... taller she said...

amauble had a huge bandaid on his forehead from where he cracked his head open...

my little brother said casually when i came in the house that it was edwards idea to swing by our house...
that when he got his animal cookies he immediately told mom that he wanted to come and give them to emily...
he insisted she stop by the house so he could come see me.

i love that little boy.

its amazing to see how your significant love for an individual makes them like... blossom.. bloom... bubble up with returning love...

this is the little boy who can't sit still in class and causes too much trouble... 
he's being forced to repeat kindergarten.

but around me... because i honestly see him as so bright and significant... he tells jokes.. is well mannered and all around one of the most thoughtful and sweet tempered little boys i've ever known.

i keep getting kinda weirded out...

cause... like... i keep thinking about how kids grow up...
you can't always have a significant relationship like that when it goes over different genders...

i can't be like... edwards reason to succeed.. thats weird.

you know?

but i'm just not good with girls...

thats why i want to have at least 3 boys... 
i sorta want 1 girl... so i can do girl things with her...

but... boys are so much just... BETTER.
and if it was my own boy... i wouldn't have to worry about its being weird to love them so much.

it sucks that i even have thought about this...

that a sweet moment with a precious little boy would become slightly sad cause i have to think about how you act later... 

maybe it will take care of itself...
he'll grow out of liking me so much and be just like... cool with me like jaffedy ...

but thats sad too.

it just sucks how you can't be GOOD friends with people without its being weird sometimes.

its raining today...

i love the rain.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

hayley mills.


i went to the cedar mill library and rented a bunch of hayley mills disney movies...

soooo funny.

that girls hair! :)

i won't lie though... i'm basically in love with her wardrobe
the 60s are my favorite.







in the oregonian! :)  "what makes a good date?" ahhaa



Saturday, May 9, 2009

the moment before.

so sometimes... your expectation is better than the follow up to the event.

in fact almost all the time.

michelle is preeettty different from how i remember her...
i should have prepared myself by thinking over the last year... and how we haven't really had much mutual affection shared.
a year and a half ago she broke my heart by telling me she was tired of being my friend and didn't want to work at it.
God convicted her and i guess idk... we just kept going...
then i didn't go to her birthday til late and that hurt her pretty deeply.
then she ignored me all summer.
at the end of summer came back and realized lauren and i were actually leaving and got all frantic.

talked sometimes at school and talked about how much we missed each other...

ignored me over winter break when i came to visit at onyx house...  barely said goodbye in passing.

5 months= many phone calls with tears saying she misses me.

followed up by my visiting to surprise her...

its like... the initial reaction was really happy but... then it was just like... ok well i'm going to go hang out with my friends... youre cool with going to meaghans... spending the night... i'll see you tomorrow at lunch right?

like... i'm combating against my love language of like... quality time to say that michelles is words of affirmation and thats something i struggle with... so if she doesnt feel my affection why would she show me hers?

i mean i wont lie... 
it feels extremely insensitive...

when meaghan is like... "i want to show all my friends you.... i just want to show you off cause i miss you and think your so cool!"

michelle who's supposedly my best friend like... leaves me to go hang out with hers and then gets mad at me last night when she actually asks me to be honest about how i feel about her leaving to go hang out with someone else...

i said... well... i mean obviously its fine.. you know the situation better than i do...
but i sorta came down to hang out with you...
i haven't seen you in 5 months and i was feeling pretty excited to spend time with you...
and its like... you don't even care.... 

it honestly hurts my feelings so much that she obviously puts me on the shelf and treats me like i'll always be there.
of course i will...
but i'm entitled to being treated like a friend.

i can't handle in conversations when she talks down to me...

its either like... shes saying vulgar things... talking about the lord excitedly... joking around... or being mean to me.

it makes me wonder what happened to the attributes that draw me to people... like those in andrea, meaghan, or grahm...
who actually.. idk... kinda seems annoyed with me too.

its just hard... 
cause like... these are people that i'm so excited to be around that my filter i guess just goes out the window and maybe i'm annoying them...
considering thats already a point of insecurity for me... 
its really hard to like... i guess hear grahm say things that seem more pointed to make fun of me than encourage me.  i'm really not used to that.

Friday, May 8, 2009

onyx house friday night.

singing songs that I KNOW.
songs i've sang for years.
that are significant to my church and my friends and my memories and my relationship with the lord are so thrilling.

its summer.
i'm home.

grahm's drumming and smiling.
and these are people i love.
who are familiar because its the northwest and they are friends of friends i've grown up with.
and my friends are alllllll here.  every single one of my closest friends is here.

its summer.
i'm home.


i love being home.

i haven't even gone to MY home yet...
but just driving through portland and then coming to Eugene is like healing deep california wounds.
being in this air is like... beyond anything i can describe.

listen to The Crane Wife 1 and understand that the sound of the music in the first 2 verses sound like the outpouring of my soul right now.

i suprised michelle...
then i hung out with meaghan and we went all over the place... walked down to the river...
it beautiful.

we just sat under a full moon on a bridge and talked.

and breathed the air.

i wore a peacoat and a scarf.

im not weird.... i fit in and am normal.

i belong here....

like... i love it so much.

i feel whole.

Monday, May 4, 2009

don't forget!

summer reading:
milan kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being

for coram deo.

pictures of studying.

final etudier of the year.

sooo right now i'm sitting in a hallway in Duke under a skylight...
its pretty dim in the rest of the hall and all the classrooms are dark so i'm up here for some secluded study time before my next final.

this morning I had 3d design and children's lit all before 1.
i was up until 4 last night studying for luke acts and finishing my costume for 3d.

my fox costume is swell.
i'll definitely post photos when bill sends them to me.
slash youll probably see me wearing it around.

(i can't even believe how sexual my costume is on accident.  basically i chose a fox for the fact that i like them, and i'm a complete tease.  i don't mean to be... but i am i guess...  then i realize that i made it entirely out of bed-sheets i slept in last semester and bra fabric.... who AM i?  honestly I didn't even think about it).

i wrote my luke acts paper last night and yesterday finished all my 2d.

never got around to studying for children's lit but i took it today and it was super sheezy easy.
there was one question where she asked what HER modified version of Bloom's taxonomy was like and what the application was to children's literature...

obviously if i'd studied I would have known that but i only faintly remembered her touching on it earlier... so i just wrote bloom's taxonomy that I know and hopefully she'll give me most of the points.

but that was the only one that I wasn't 100 percent sure about.

I got an A on my book too.


basically I know I have an A in art and faith, 3d design, children's lit... 

and in luke acts I'm pretty sure I have an A but it could possibly become a B... he's a pretty tough cookie and though I've received really high A's on all my assignments that's what happened last semester and I got a B. so we'll just have to see.

in 2d i'm really not sure.
i didn't do half of the critique write ups for other people... considering they were stupid.
and i didn't do this half assignment in class where we cut up paint cards and glued them on a notecard ... cause that is stupid.

honestly my pieces were like 20 x better than 3/4 the class so I'll be super annoyed if I don't get an A.
I should probably just ask him and see if I can't do anything to make certain I'll get one.

following this post:
luke acts final: review strauss quotes and finish outline for paper.
sticky's in bible passages

take luke acts final.

shake duzik's hand. cause you loved having him for 2 semesters.

go read walking on water for 3 hours.

take notes on every chapter.

traipse about in your fox costume and show cherie.

get napkins for art and faith FORT PARTY.


TOMORROW: give books to ashlyn.
pay 2.00 to the library.
Build a Fort and eat oreo's and drink milk and tell stories for Art and Faith... (gosh i love this class)
say bye to all the seniors :/
talk to Chris about storing some of my art in the summer.
clean out studio.
tutti fruttie with sam and andrea to celebrate the birthdays ill miss this summer.
sleeeeeep.  maybe watch little women?

paint studio.
do laundry.
ask if i can sleep in kelsey's extra bed.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

innapropriate and immature.

so many people thought throughout the centuries past that the day we had an african american president would be the day that pigs fly.

alls i've got to say is... 100 days in... and swine flu.

peace yalls.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

reflections on prayer.

Recently I have had so much difficulty with prayer.  I am really battling back and forth in my mind with the ideas of how wicked I must be to not care about talking to the Lord, and the fact that the Lord knows this already and loves me.  It’s so cyclical because shouldn’t my understanding of his loving “while I am still a sinner” cause me to long for him (explored under attitudes for prayer)?  But I don’t really long for the Lord right now.  Do I fake it til’ I make it and just read scripture out of obligation?  Or is that frustrating to the Lord?  Shouldn’t I give him a contrite heart, considering that is what he always says he wants?  Is this question just a way of getting out of doing the work and an excuse to be lazy?  Has my Christianity become a self help program were I become good enough to enter into the Lord’s presence or am I concerned about really glorifying the Lord?  Where does the idea of entering or exiting God’s presence come from anyway?  Isn’t that made up, considering God never leaves me and is inside and outside and in my mind, heart, words, thoughts, and actions?  The problem is I don’t love Him and if my faith has ever become confusing I have always turned to the mantra of “Love God, Love People.”  Maybe the answer is to obey God, and I’m just becoming silly in needing to feel the amorous affection that comes sometimes into my heart towards Him.  Obeying shows God love, so does loving my enemies and “one another.”  These all prove our LOVE for him.  But I can’t help but think that it is out of a feeling of duty and fear of not doing it rather than love.  But when I think about serving my husband in the future even when it feels out of obligation and not amorous attention that sounds like true love to me… so why does it not when it is directed towards the Lord?  Why is it that when I talk with the Lord in my head it feels almost as if I’m talking to someone completely removed from this whole ordeal?  Is this a problem I’ve created myself, a wall I’ve built up that I’m staring at that Jesus just walked around?  Am I really that foolish, to stare at a wall and address next to me the person I’m trying to get over it to see? 

Is prayer then really, as I know in my heart of hearts the simplest form of just being with the Lord and expressing yourself and sharing in his expression?  When Jesus arose early and sat with the Lord alone was it his mere being with God that caused him to become like him?  Did Jesus love God?  Was this love amorous or raw and earthen and older than time?  Truth feels raw and rough to me, and it smells like rain on tilled earth.  That is what Jesus love for his Father seems like.  Deep.  Beyond comprehension or words; Past what a bridegroom would feel for his bride, or a father for his child, or the master for his servant. 

I think that you can’t pursue God wrongly, and it is prideful and wrong for me to wait to address Him because I’m afraid of doing it in a way that won’t be completely worthy.  How could I ever be worthy?  Don’t I know that by now?

It’s like the tax collector.  He was right in his wrongness; another paradox of Christianity.  He did not look upon the Lord because he was ashamed.  Now a person might examine this and say that this attitude would be saying to Jesus that you did not trust what he did on the cross for you and that you didn’t believe he was who the Father saw when he looked upon you.  One could argue this.  But Jesus praised the man and said he was right in the father’s eyes.  Maybe this passage is more about just entering, rather than allowing a fear to hold you back from the Lords presence because you didn’t do it right.  The priest got it all right, but even in that got it all wrong!  It’s not about how you enter into the Lord’s presence but the glory you allow of his to fill up your life.  If you’ve filled yourself up to the brim with your own pride because of you’re self righteousness then how can God fill you with HIS righteousness?  Jesus has come for the sick and so when he sees an empty cup in his presence he’ll fill it up.  If he sees a full cup that doesn’t please him any more because its still just a stupid cup.  He takes joy in filling me up with his own righteousness and that is something I just simply have to become alright with.  It’s more important to simply allow God to Be glorious than to worry about bringing  him something he’ll find glorious.  I’m just not good enough and I never will be, but it is the attitude that acknowledges this that he wants.

i'm so depressed.

i'm so ready to go home.

i miss my mother so much.
i just want to sit on our couch with my blanket and have her rub my back.

i want natural light and candles.

i want green trees and grass everywhere and to drive down sunset hwy or cornell and enjoy the tremendous clouds and the brilliant sunshine.  I want to stare at the colors.

i want to have the choice to go up into my tree house or not.

to go into MY room and be all alone.

i want to be able to hear EVERY person in my house from my room.

i want to identify people by their footfalls on the hardwood.

i want to breathe OUR air.

i just miss home.

My dad is graduating tonight.

Ariel and Paul are in town and my whole family is together to see my dad graduate... it feels so unfair.

i want to be there to see him.
i want to clap and whoop and holler for my daddy who has worked so hard to learn 3 languages and study tough scripture with all these brilliant men.

he's so cool.
and i'm so proud of him.

i'm excited for mother's day.

i'm going to work extra hard this year to make it special.

Friday, May 1, 2009



tonight ..

i layed on my back on andrea's floor and stared at the cieling.

i just wanted to escape.

everyones rooms are cluttered with boxes and their things.

we're all packing to go home.

and now... when i need it more than ever, i cannot have tidiness.

i need sea foam with a smattering of yellow ochre.

white birches with a field of breezy poppies.


i need to lay on my back in my bedroom with my windows all open and the walls illuminated by the sunshine.

i miss just being able to be quiet in my room.

azlyn's always in there.

which is fine... its her room.. but i just need time by myself.

but the thing is you can't do that around here.

there's no where safe to go by yourself as a girl.

for example... i'm sitting here on the floor of my friends room and now Pink has just come on... 

i can't handle that.

i need silence.

i need breezes.

Thursday, April 30, 2009

to do list:

read walking on water
notes on half

meet with john wallace for coffee
return brittney's stuff
radioshack for a light
install light in bird and use fishing line to hang
scan drawings
meet with andrea
pack at least 2 boxes and a bag of clothes, lamp, hanging closet, hangers
fox costume finish
monrovia street fair with sam: meaghan's gift, mothers day gift,

walking on water
notes on half
print english paper
theological library for theme research

street market: gift for meaghan/mom/ micah
clean out studio space
study for luke acts final with Allie V.  : prepare for option 1


i'm sort of overwhelmed right now with the amount of bookmarked artists i have on my computer.

lets count.


there could be more but i've stopped bookmarking them because it becomes too intimidating.
i can't remember what their names are when i want to locate one and i open up my tabs and just get intimidated.

what shall i do.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

girls should be aware of this.

i never open forwards but considering that Bickey was the one who sent me this... i did.

This could also apply to someone just wanting you to pull out your wallet so they can take it.

> Know what money you are carrying.  You will  see why as you read...
> Be sure every woman is aware of  this method of operating.  Share it  
> with those you  love.   Know what money you are carrying. This was   
> the first I have heard of a scheme like this. Be safe!  Something   
> very serious to pay attention to.
> Criminals are  coming up with craftier, less threatening methods of  
>  attack, so we have to be extra cautious.
> Read on about  the author who lives in Alexandria, VA.
> I live in  Alexandria, VA, but I often work in Lafayette, LA,  
>  staying with friends when I'm there.  As you know from  America's  
> Most Wanted TV program, as well as the news  media, there is a  
serial killer in the Lafayette  area.  I just want to let you know  
> about an  "incident" that happened to me a few weeks ago, and could  
>  have been deadly.
> At first I didn't go to the police or  anyone with it because I  
> didn't realize how serious this  encounter was.  But since I work in  
> a jail and I  told a few people about it, it wasn't long before I  
> was  paraded into Internal Affairs to tell them my story.  It was   
> approximately 5:15 a.m. in Appaloosas, La. I had stayed with  a  
> friend there and was on my way to work.
>  I stopped at the Exxon/Blimpie Pie station to get gas. I got $10   
> gas and a Diet Coke. I took into the store two $5 bills and one  $1  
> bill (just enough to get my stuff). As I pulled away  from the  
> store, a man approached my truck from the back  side of the store  
> (an unlit area).
> He was  an "approachable-looking" man (clean cut, clean shaven,  
>  dressed well, etc.). He walked up to my window and knocked.   Since  
> I'm very paranoid and 'always looking for the  rapist or killer,' I  
> didn't open the  window.
> I just asked what he wanted.  He raised a  $5 bill to my window and  
> said, "You dropped this."   Since I knew I had gone into the store  
> with a certain  amount of money, I knew I didn't drop it.
> When I told  him it wasn't mine, he began hitting the window and  
> door,  screaming at me to open my door, and insisting that I had  
>  dropped the money! At that point, I just drove away as fast as I   
> could.
> After talking to the Internal Affairs  Department and describing the  
> man I saw, and the way he  escalated from calm and polite to angry  
> and volatile ...  it was determined that I could have possibly  
> encountered  the serial killer myself.
> Up to this point, it had been  unclear as to how he had gained  
> access to his victims,  since there has been no evidence of forced  
> entry into  victim's homes, cars, etc. And the fact that he has been  
>  attacking in the daytime, when women are less likely to have their   
> guard up, means he is pretty BOLD.
> So think  about it...what gesture is nicer than returning money to  
>  someone that dropped it?????
> How many times would you  have opened your window (or door) to get  
> your money and  say thank you ...
> Because if the person is kind enough  to return something to you,  
> then he can't really be a  threat, can he????
> Please be cautious! This might not  have been the serial killer....  
> But anyone that gets that  angry over someone not accepting money  
> from them can't  have honorable intentions. The most important thing  
> to  note is that his reaction was NOT WHAT I EXPECTED!  A total   
> surprise!  But what might have happened if I had opened my  door? I  
> shudder to think!
> Forward this to  everyone you know. Maybe they can be as fortunate  
> as I  was!
> P.S.  Ladies, really DO forward this to  EVERYONE you know.  Even if  
> this man wasn't a serial  killer, he looked nice, he seemed polite,  
> he was  apparently doing an act of kindness, but HE WAS NOT A NICE   
> Men, send it to all the women in your  life. What you do today is  
> important because you are  exchanging a day of your life for it.   
> Make it  a good one!
> Please forward to anyone you think might  benefit from this story..