Saturday, February 28, 2009

The World

by Henry Vaughn (1621-1695)

1

I saw Eternity the other night
Like a great Ring of pure and endless light,
      All calm, as it was bright,
And round beneath it, Time is hours, days, years
      Driven by the spheres
Like a vast shadow mov'd, in which the world
      And all her train were hurl'd;
The doting lover in his quaintest strain
      Did there complain,
Near him, his lute, his fancy, and his flights,
      Wit's sour delights,
With gloves, and knots the silly snares of pleasure
      Yet his dear treasure
All scatter'd lay, while he his eyes did pour
      Upon a flower.

>2

The darksome statesman hung with weights and woe
Like a thick midnight fog mov'd there so slow
He did nor stay, nor go;
Condemning thoughts (like sad eclipses) scowl
      Upon his soul,
And clouds of crying witnesses without
Pursued him with one shout.
Yet digg'd the mole, and lest his ways be found
      Work'd under ground,
Where he did clutch his prey, but one did see
      That policy,
Churches and altars fed him, perjuries
      Were gnats and flies,
It rain'd about him blood and tears, but he
      Drank them as free.

3

The fearful miser on a heap of rust
Sat pining all his life there, did scarce trust
His own hands with the dust,
But would not place one piece above, but lives
      In fear of thieves.
Thousands there were as frantic as himself
And hugg'd each one his pelf,
The downright epicure plac'd heav'n in sense
      And scorn'd pretnece
While others slipt into a wide excess
      Said little less;
The weaker sort slight, trivial wares enslave
      Who think them brave,
And poor, despised Truth sat counting by
      Their victory.

4

Yet some, who all this while did weep and sing,
And sing, and weep, soar'd up into the Ring,
But most would use no wing.
O fools (said I,) thus to prefer dark night
      Before true light,
To live in grots, and caves, and hate the day
Because it shows the way,
The way which from the dead and dark abode
      Leads up to God,
A way where you might tread the Sun, and be
      More bright than he.
But as I did their madness so discuss
      One whisper'd thus,
"This Ring the Bridegroom did for none provide
      But for his bride."

and now for the REST of the story...

the end.

love option 2

i do not want to marry Jesse Tuck.

just have a wonderful love that will be a story for the ages...




in the middle of the woods.





we could maybe swim in a lake.






maybe it could be 1920?




yeah... this is a good plan.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

i want to marry klaus baudelaire.



badly.

projects


1. sidewalk chalk co-op with andrea... (by when: tomorrows classes)
2. wooden body part
3. Madeleine Lengle drawings for children's lit poster
4. touch up THE DARLINGS print 
a. eliminate the black on the right sides leaves
b. perfect Wendy's dress
c. change color of john's shirt so the gradient is not lost in the printing
d. change the color of inside the garland 
e. make a banner for the name
f. alter the color of their skin slightly
5. bird man for grahm
6. work on series: NANA, PETER, KISS & THIMBLE,
7. experiment with tee shirt printing

the favorite.

"Today, I returned home from college and saw a framed picture of my parents and my younger sister on an elephant in an exotic jungle. I pointed to the picture and asked my mom, "Is this some photoshop job?" She responded, 'No, we went to Thailand for a family trip, didn't we tell you?' FML"



oh sisters lets go down.

As I went down in the river to pray 
Studying about that good old way 
And who shall wear the starry crown 
Good Lord, show me the way ! 

O sisters let's go down, 
Let's go down, come on down, 
O sisters let's go down, 
Down in the river to pray. 

As I went down in the river to pray 
Studying about that good old way 
And who shall wear the robe and crown 
Good Lord, show me the way ! 

O brothers let's go down, 
Let's go down, come on down, 
Come on brothers let's go down, 
Down in the river to pray. 

As I went down in the river to pray 
Studying about that good old way 
And who shall wear the starry crown 
Good Lord, show me the way ! 

O fathers let's go down, 
Let's go down, come on down, 
O fathers let's go down, 
Down in the river to pray. 

As I went down in the river to pray 
Studying about that good old way 
And who shall wear the robe and crown 
Good Lord, show me the way ! 

O mothers let's go down, 
Let's go down, don't you want to go down, 
Come on mothers let's go down, 
Down in the river to pray. 

As I went down in the river to pray 
Studying about that good old way 
And who shall wear the starry crown 
Good Lord, show me the way ! 

O sinners let's go down, 
Let's go down, come on down, 
O sinners let's go down, 
Down in the river to pray. 

As I went down in the river to pray 
Studying about that good old way 
And who shall wear the robe and crown 
Good Lord, show me the way !




we sang this song last week at liturgical chapel.
i'd never been before.. and i really enjoyed it.... when i go to seattle in the summer i'm going to meet up with brian to go to Compline... (i'm so incredibly thrilled that he goes because when i went with ariel... i was just like.. in love with the beauty of that entire thing).
then tonight because its ash wednesday kaleo was super low key and shawn just played acoustic with natalie on her penny whistle :)
but it was wonderful because after prayer we chose if we wanted to have ash put on our foreheads.


i think its really beautiful... 
i'm singing and i can smell the burnt scent as it waves about in the air.
obviously i'm not a very ritualistic person...
but theres something about coming into a tradition of piety with a firm relationship with the Lord that causes the silence and repetition, the smells of ash and the humiliation of dirt all over you that just solidifies a lesson.

it makes sense why israel would wear sackcloth and put ashes on themselves...
its humbling.

oh sisters lets go down...
down by the river to pray.

ashes to ashes dust to dust.... Jude 2

meet us here oh gracious king,
let us see you in YOUR BEAUTY AND YOUR MAJESTY
we long to see that glorious day...
when your ransomed and redeemed will join to sing you praise.


where you lead me lord i will follow
where you lead me lord i will go
come and heal me lord i will follow
where you lead me lord i will go

christ is risen
the grave is empty
now he lives in you and me for the world to see
we're forgiven
by his mercy
now we're living for the glory of the king





You're the center of the universe
everything was made in you
breath of every living thing 
everyone was made for you

YOU HOLD EVERYTHING TOGETHER
YOU HOLD EVERYTHING TOGETHER

O Christ, be the center of our lives....
be the place we fix our eyes
be the center of our lives

we lift our eyes to heaven
we wrap our lives around your life
we lift our eyes to heaven, to you

O Christ, be the center of our lives....
be the place we fix our eyes
be the center of our lives



Wonderful.
Beautiful.
Glorious.
Matchless in every way.

Wonderful.
Beautiful.
Glorious.
Matchless in every way.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

puer aeternus.

i have yet another thing to add to my connections of peter pan and life.

my recent contemplations on the problem with young men today... (stimulated by catlings impressive thoughts on america post industrial revolution and the lack of coming of age ceremonies for men).

this entire concept of men dealing with the puer aeternus.

i want to apply it...

maybe there are more lost boys than we think.

stumble gems.


no. NOT lookbook.

http://www.lookatbook.com/


well i'm impressed.

ttp://www.byhook.com/video/telematics.html


this one comes up every time i stumble.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2_HXUhShhmY


gosh space is cool.

http://heritage.stsci.edu/gallery/gallery_category.html




this one too..



Originally uploaded by kevin russ

winter's day hike

lover.... are you lonely...

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

just being. & happy to be.

just being: the hugest coverage of this idea took place in my art and faith class today... and all i could do was smile as i thought about how meaghan loves that phrase... and andrea's is "happy to be"
like... both show their personalities...
and its interesting how i gravitate towards people who understand this idea of simply existing.
not striving to gain... 
or hoping to obtain...
stressed out.

but just simply resting in your skin and soul.




i love my art and faith class so much.
i learn more in that hour and a half than i do in my entire week.

i listen and sing back



"Do you know," peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses?  it is to listen to stories."

Monday, February 23, 2009

a little hurt.

i can't blame anyone because i do have way too much on my plate.
but mostly... its just that stupid old intimidated thing again...

i'm such a scaredy cat.

i never believe that i can actually pull anything off so i start things and then hide them away cause i'm afraid of them.

i just sorta wish i'd been told...
its sorta just awful to be left in the dark while people move on to ask someone else to do your job better....

i understand...

but when they are your friend... i just expect to be told i guess...

not to have to find out online....

Sunday, February 22, 2009

The ear

So for my 3d design project (found objects to construct a body part) i'm making an ear out of the wood skin of a palm tree that i found on the sidewalk.

i looked up what an ear means as a symbol and this is what i found:

The ear is a female sexual symbol (this comes as no suprise... everything is stinking phallic if you locate the right culture).  It expresses the need to for emotional oppenness or the need to be careful of emotional boundaries.  Pierced earlobes signify defloration.  In the Orient the ear is the symbol for a married woman.



mk... welllll now i need to finish my sculpture.

to do at home:

1. field days.
2. albina press
3. rimsky's
4. bingo
5. sasquatch


Saturday, February 21, 2009

yeah...
so clubs are really weird.



Thursday, February 19, 2009

cowboys.


yoke.jpg

graffiti and graciousness.

the most inspiring things for me... usually have to do with breaking a rule.

dead poets society.

banksy.

Luther nailing his 95 thesis to the door.

martyrs.





whatever and whatnot.

i've been incredibly inspired recently to go out at night and write quotes from children's literature... inspiring ones that should spur childlikeness...

EVERYWHERE on campus.

and maybe be one of like.. 2 people that know about it.

its haunting me...
like i have to.

but then there is this strange reminder that its against the rules... and someone would have to clean it up.

somebody... a victim/civil servant will have to go out and delete it.... erase it.

and it will ruin their day.

sacrifices.

i wish i could give up what God asks me to... and still have it.

have my cake... and eat it too.

like, this is a HUGE endeavor...
but i think its for that very reason i have to do it.

clothes are NOTHING in the space of eternity.

they are to keep me warm and from being naked.
and there are people who would love to be able to wear american apparel.

i know what i have to do ... 
but i just wish like... i WANT glory for it.

like... i know i shouldn't but i want EVERYONE to know that i did it... so i at least get something out of it...

i know in my head that i SHOULD want Jesus to be my reward but I don't...


i could care less.

but this all stinks because i'll have to do it anyways... but my heart will be in the wrong place...

I don't want to give it up out of fear... 
I don't want to give it up because i HAVE to...
I want to give it as an offering to the Lord...


heck yea

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rlo-3KPqZwU

i have friend crushes often.

this is NOT the sort of i'm friends with you but secretly i like you thing i'm talking about... 
oh no.

i get these ridiculous desires to be friends with people i dont know.

i call them friend crushes...
i'm not "attracted" to this person per se... but i'm sure they probably always think i am because i just wanna be their friend so badly.

i'm SUCH a creep.


Wednesday, February 18, 2009

sasquatch 09





yes please.

Saturday, May 23th
Kings of Leon / Yeah Yeah Yeahs / The Decemberists / Animal Collective / Bon Iver / Devotchka / M. Ward / Doves / Sun Kil Moon / The Gaslight Anthem / King Khan & The Shrines / Ra Ra Riot / Shearwater / Passion Pit / Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band / Vince Mira / Blind Pilot / Owl City / Arthur & Yu / Dent May & His Magnificent Ukulele / Death Vessel / Hockey

Sunday, May 24th
Jane’s Addiction / Nine Inch Nails /
TV On The Radio / Peter Bjorn and John / of Montreal / The Avett Brothers / Calexico / M83 / The Airborne Toxic Event / The Walkmen / The Wrens / St. Vincent / The Dodos / John Vanderslice / The Submarines / Viva Voce / The Builders And The Butchers / AA Bondy / Fences / Point Juncture, WA / Jon Benjamin

Monday, May 25th
Ben Harper and Relentless7 / Erykah Badu / Silversun Pickups / Fleet Foxes / Gogol Bordello / Santigold / Grizzly Bear / Explosions In The Sky / Girl Talk / Blitzen Trapper / The Knux / Monotonix / Bishop Allen / Black Moth Super Rainbow / Beach House / Mugison / The Dutchess And The Duke / School Of Seven Bells / Horse Feathers / The Pica Beats / Loch Lomond / BLK JKS


daniel and meaghan, would you please confirm that you are planning to go... because if you are... we can get our 154$ tix by purchasing before march 1st.
mmmmmmm.


what a bunch of good shows...
i'm so excited to see like... ALL of them.  but emboldened are the specials.

Monday, February 16, 2009

failure shows us that..

life is but a draft...
a long rehearsal for a show that will never play...

first date.

Clare: The library is cool and smells like carpet cleaner, although all I can see is marble. I sign the Visitors' Log: Clare Abshire, 11:15 10-26-91 Special Collections. I have never been in the Newberry Library before, and now that I've gotten past the dark, foreboding entrance I am excited. I have a sort of Christmas-morning sense of the library as a big box full of beautiful books. The elevator is dimly lit, almost silent. I stop on the third floor and fill out an application for a Reader's Card, then I go upstairs to Special Collections. My boot heels rap the wooden floor. The room is quiet and crowded, full of solid, heavy tables piled with books and surrounded by readers. Chicago autumn morning light shines through the tall windows. I approach the desk and collect a stack of call slips. I'm writing a paper for an art history class. My research topic is the Kelmscott Press Chaucer. I look up the book itself and fill out a call slip for it. But I also want to read about papermaking at Kelmscott. The catalog is confusing. I go back to the desk to ask for help. As I explain to the woman what I am trying to find, she glances over my shoulder at someone passing behind me. "Perhaps Mr. DeTamble can help you," she says. I turn, prepared to start explaining again, and find myself face to face with Henry. 

I am speechless. Here is Henry, calm, clothed, younger than I have ever seen him. Henry is working at the Newberry Library, standing in front of me, in the present. Here and now. I am jubilant. Henry is looking at me patiently, uncertain but polite. 

"Is there something I can help you with?" he asks. 

"Henry!" I can barely refrain from throwing my arms around him. It is obvious that he has never seen me before in his life. 

"Have we met? I'm sorry, I don't . . . ." Henry is glancing around us, worrying that readers, coworkers are noticing us, searching his memory and realizing that some future self of his has met this radiantly happy girl standing in front of him. The last time I saw him he was sucking my toes in the Meadow. 

I try to explain. "I'm Clare Abshire. I knew you when I was a little girl. . . ." I'm at a loss because I am in love with a man who is standing before me with no memories of me at all. Everything is in the future for him. I want to laugh at the weirdness of the whole thing. I'm flooded with years of knowledge of Henry, while he's looking at me perplexed and fearful. Henry wearing my dad's old fishing trousers, patiently quizzing me on multiplication tables, French verbs, all the state capitals; Henry laughing at some peculiar lunch my seven-year-old self has brought to the Meadow; Henry wearing a tuxedo, undoing the studs of his shirt with shaking hands on my eighteenth birthday. Here! Now! "Come and have coffee with me, or dinner or something. . . ." Surely he has to say yes, this Henry who loves me in the past and the future must love me now in some bat squeak echo of other time. To my immense relief he does say yes. We plan to meet tonight at a nearby Thai restaurant, all the while under the amazed gaze of the woman behind the desk, and I leave, forgetting about Kelmscott and Chaucer and floating down the marble stairs, through the lobby and out into the October Chicago sun, running across the park scattering small dogs and squirrels, whooping and rejoicing. 

Henry: It's a routine day in October, sunny and crisp. I'm at work in a small windowless humidity-controlled room on the fourth floor of the Newberry, cataloging a collection of marbled papers that has recently been donated. The papers are beautiful, but cataloging is dull, and I am feeling bored and sorry for myself. In fact, I am feeling old, in the way only a twenty-eight-year-old can after staying up half the night drinking overpriced vodka and trying, without success, to win himself back into the good graces of Ingrid Carmichel. We spent the entire evening fighting, and now I can't even remember what we were fighting about. My head is throbbing. I need coffee. Leaving the marbled papers in a state of controlled chaos, I walk through the office and past the page's desk in the Reading Room. I am halted by Isabelle's voice saying, "Perhaps Mr. DeTamble can help you," by which she means "Henry, you weasel, where are you slinking off to?" And this astoundingly beautiful amber-haired tall slim girl turns around and looks at me as though I am her personal Jesus. My stomach lurches. Obviously she knows me, and I don't know her. Lord only knows what I have said, done, or promised to this luminous creature, so I am forced to say in my best librarianese, "Is there something I can help you with?" The girl sort of breathes "Henry!" in this very evocative way that convinces me that at some point in time we have a really amazing thing together. This makes it worse that I don't know anything about her, not even her name. I say "Have we met?" and Isabelle gives me a look that says You asshole. But the girl says, "I'm Clare Abshire. I knew you when I was a little girl," and invites me out to dinner. I accept, stunned. She is glowing at me, although I am unshaven and hung over and just not at my best. We are going to meet for dinner this very evening, at the Beau Thai, and Clare, having secured me for later, wafts out of the Reading Room. As I stand in the elevator, dazed, I realize that a massive winning lottery ticket chunk of my future has somehow found me here in the present, and I start to laugh. I cross the lobby, and as I run down the stairs to the street I see Clare running across Washington Square, jumping and whooping, and I am near tears and I don't know why. 

the time travelers wife.

18950447.jpg


movie.


(i actually felt ill inside i got so excited)


man i want to reread this now more than ever.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

wick.

in real.

might i have a bit of earth?

i'm in the garden.

you must believe in magic. that's the only way its real.

if you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden.

the wick of thimbles.

childlikeness.

(quotes for the pavement)

in india when it rained...

was he different from other people?

only on the inside.... 
if you looked down his throat you could see the whole universe.

the whole universe couldn't fit down anyones throat.

down his it could.

HOW?
that would mean you'd have to be bigger than the whole universe for the universe to fit down his throat.. and YOU said he looked like everybody else on the outside.

that's right, its INSIDE that he was different.

it doesn't make sense.

it doesn't have to make sense.... its the idear of it.

that's so stupid.

no its not, its magic.

you can't really be that stupid.

i'm not stupid!!
you just don't understand! you don't want to!
how south is south when birds fly south?

kindle my heart.

As the moon kindles the night 
As the wind kindles the fire 
As the rain fills every ocean 
And the Sun the Earth 
So your heart will kindle my heart 

Take my heart 
Take my heart 
Kindle it with your heart 
And my heart cannot be 
Kindled without you 
Your heart will kindle my heart

shaped.

i think that the heros that have most shaped my childhood are the young girls in stories i read...
i was given The Secret Garden and A Little Princess for my birthday.

frances hodgson burnett formed me...

i know God used her stories to change my heart to want to become good.
to want to help other girls.

to stand up for justice in sweet and simple ways.

to use my imagination and to appreciate God's creation.

to become a real princess in the way that God sees me.


i cry during these movies because i start to realize how much of my life has been changed by unconsciously trying to emulate and become good like these girls.

miss you.


happy valentines day.


Friday, February 13, 2009

WHAT THE HECK!!!!!

WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON IN MY LIFE!~?!?!?!

PETER PAN IS EVERYWHERE AND ITS STINKING OUTRAGEOUS.

1. read it for my lit class
2. wrote a ton of quotes on it
3. get inspired to work on it
4. talk over it with my prof for half an hour
5. research symbols in it
6. discuss it with him again
7. get a paper advertising the LIT show... i think i may be am supposed to do this??? on peter pan???
8. get assigned the song THE FACE OF PAN by JOHN WILLIAMS (theme of peter pan from hook) in my 2d design class...

what is going on!?!??!

Thursday, February 12, 2009

paul simon. art garfunkel.

my parents were so lucky to grow up in the 60's... 

id kill for my teenage years to have been in this time period.

at work.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

nineteenyerolds.

my birthday has been so wonderful.
started early.. at midnight with floods of wellwishing...
grahm's wishing...
andrea and kelsey and sara came in and brought my presents i'd surrendered to their care...
i opened them on mah bed.
including anna geannopoulous's card. :) :) :) :) and i put her valentine up on my mobile so i wouldn't open it until feb 14 and it would be FIRST THING.
hannah my RA came and sang to me in a cute little way... and brought me two half eaten cookies :) ahahha...
meaghan larkin made me a delightful 11:20 something minute video with GREAT songs that i enjoyed tremendously...
i wore my shirt yesterday (cause i accidentally opened it early and i have no patience)
and i am wearing my hat today... :)
i've had so many people wish me happy birthday...
INCLUDING john wallace in front of half the caf this morning... we had a wonderful shared moment :)
i tried to call home but no one answered :/ hahaha
came back to my room and sam had put some beautiful flowers in a vase for me on my desk....
lauren put up balloons all over my desk and had a card for me...
oh yeah... andrea made me the most wonderful card... shaped like a sunflower and with the sweetest messages... she said i'm the friend she's always asked the Lord for!!!! :) which is honestly the nicest thing a person could say.
AND lauren gave me a card i've had saved that my mom sent her to give to me...
its from when we were little and super precious...

i'm going to check my mail in a sec.

finished my homework sorta... 
now i'm reading walking on water... the most amazing book for artists in the world of literature... Madeleine L'engle is a genius.

andrea took pictures of presents...
and i look gosh darn awful but their hilarious... so i'll put them up at some point.

gotta go print my homework for childrens lit!

so i'm nineteen.

WEIRD.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

so duh... but perfect for homework duh.

mykonos & white winter hymnal. [duh]
wow, i thought 18 was old.

Monday, February 9, 2009

artists obedience.

" The artist is a servant who is willing to be a birth giver.  In a very real sense the artist (male or female should be like Mary, who when the angel told her that she was to bear the Messiah, was obedient to the command.
Obedience is an unpopular word nowadays, but the artist must be obedient to the work, whether it be a symphony, a painting, or a story for a small child.  I believe that each work of art, whether it is a work of great genius or something very small, comes to the artist and says, 'Here I am.  Enflesh me.  Give birth to me.' And the artist either says, 'My soul doth magnify the Lord,' and willingly becomes the bearer of the work or refuses; but the obedient response is not necessarily a conscious one, and not everyone has the bumble, courageous obedience of Mary.
As for Mary, she was little more than a child when the angel came to her; she had not lost her child's creative acceptance of the realities moving on the other side of the everyday world.  We lose our ability to see angels as we grow older, and that is a tragic loss.

....

In art, either as creators or as participators, we are helped to remember some of the glorious things we have forgotten, and some of the terrible things we are asked to endure, we who are children of God by adoption and grace.

....

The artist, if he is not to forget how to listen, must retain the vision which includes angels and dragons and unicorns and all the lovely creatures which our world would put in a box marked Children Only."

e.e. cummings

lauds the beauty of cosmos as he sings,

i who have died am alive again today.
and this is the sun's birthday, this is the birth
day of life and love and wings; and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
now my ears of my ears are awake and 
now the eyes of my eyes are opened

Phyllis McGinley

“Gossip isn't scandal and it's not merely malicious. It's chatter about the human race by lovers of the same.”

Sunday, February 8, 2009

j.m. barrie is my favourite.

Of course they lived at 14, and until Wendy came her mother was the chief one.  She was a lovely lady, with a romantic mind and such a sweet mocking mouth.  Her romantic mind was like the tiny boxes, one within the other, that come from the puzzling East, however many you discover were is always one more; and her sweet mocking mouth had one kiss on it that Wendy could never get, though there it was perfectly conspicuous in the right-hand corner.
The way Mr. Darling won her was this: the many gentlemen who had been boys when she was a girl discovered simultaneously that they loved her, and they all ran to her house to propose to her except Mr. darling, who took a cab and nipped in first, and so he got her.  He got all of her, except the innermost box and the kiss.  He never knew about the box, and in time he gave up trying for the kiss.  Wendy thought Napoleon could have got it, but I can picture him trying, and then going off in a passion, slamming the door.
...

(its all good... don't think i'm omitting sections that aren't worth reading... never)


... No nursery could possibly have been conducted more correctly, and Mr. Darling knew it, yet he sometimes wondered uneasily whether the neighbors talked.
He had his position in the city to consider.
Nana also troubled him in another wa.  he had sometimes a feeling that she did ot admire him,  "I know she admires you tremendously, George," Mrs. Darling woudl assure him, and then she would sign to the children to be specially nice to father.  Lovely dances followed in which the only other servant, Liza was sometimes allowed to join.  Such a midget she looked in her long skirt and maid's cap, though she had sworn, when engaged, that she would never see ten again.  The gaiety of those romps! And gayest of all was Mrs. Darling, who would pirouette so wildly that all you could see of her was the kiss, and then if you had dashed at her you might have got it.  There never was a simpler happier family until the coming of Peter Pan.
Mrs. Darling first heard of Peter when she was tidying up her children's minds.  It is the nightly custom of every good mother after her children are asleep to rummage in their minds and put things straight for next morning, repacking into their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day.  If you could keep awake (but of course you can't)  you would see your own mother doing this, and you would find it very interesting to wath her.  It is quite like tidying up drawers.  You would see her on her knees, I expect, lingering humorously over some of your contents, wondering where on earth you had picked this thing up, making discoveries sweet and not so sweet, pressing this to her cheek as if it were nice as a kitten, and hurriedly stowing that out of sight.  When you wake in the morning, the naughtinesses and evil passions with which you went to bed have been folded up small and placed at the bottom of your mind; and on the top, beautifully aired, are spread out your prettier thoughts, ready for you to put on.
I don't know whether you have ever seen a map of a person's mind.  Doctors sometimes draw maps of other parts of you, and your own map can become intensely interesting, but catch them trying to draw a map of a child's mind, which is not only confused, but keeps going round all the time.  There are zigzag lines on it, just like your temperature on a card, and these are probably roads in the island; for the Neverland is always more or less an island, with astonishing splashes of color here and there, and coral reefs and rakish-looking craft in the offing, and savages and lonely lairs, and gnomes who are mostly tailors, and caves through which a river runs, and princes with six elder brothers, and a hut fast going to decay, and one very small old lady with a hooked nose.  It would be an easy map if that were all ; but there is also first day at school, religion, fathers, the round pond, needlework, murders, hangings, verbs that take the dative, chocolate pudding day,  getting into braces,  say ninety-nine, threepence for pulling out your tooth yourself, and so on; and either these are part of the island or they are another map showing through, and it is all rather confusing, especially as nothing will stand still.
Of course the Neverlands vary a good deal.  John's, for instance, had a lagoon with flamingoes flying over it at which John was shooting,  while Michael, who was very small, had a flamingo with lagoons flying over it.  John lived in a boat turned upside down on the sands,  Michael in a wigwam,  Wendy in a house of leaves deftly sewn together.  john had no friends,  Michael had friends at night,  Wendy had a pet wolf forsaken by its parents; but on the whole the Neverlands have a family resemblance, and if they stood still in a row you could say of them that they have each other's nose, and so forth.  On these magic shores children at play are for ever beaching their coracles.  we too have been there; we can still hear the sound of the surf, though we shall land no more.
Of all the delectable islands the Neverland is the snuggest and most compact; not large and sprawly, you know, with tedious distances between one adventure and another, but nicely crammed.  When you play at it by day with the chairs and table-cloth, it is not in the least alarming but in the two minutes before you go to sleep it becomes very nearly real.  that is why there are night-lights.
Occasionally in her travels though her children's minds Mrs. Darling found things she  ould not understand, and of these quite the most perplexing was the word Peter.  She knew of hno Peter, and yet he was here and there in John and Michael's minds, while Wendy's began to be scrawled all over with him.  the name stood out in bolder letters than any of the other words, and as Mrs. Darling gazed she felt that it had an oddly cocky appearance.

.......

All were looking so safe and cosy that she smiled at her fears now and sat down tranquilly by the fire to sew. 
It was something for Michael, who on his birthday was getting into shirts (i love this little sentence.... i wish that this was something i could read about in our novels today... ).  the fire was warm, however, and the nursery dimly lit by three night-lights, and presently the sewing lay on Mrs. Darling's lap.  Then her head nodded oh, so gracefully.  She was asleep.  Look at the four of them, Wendy and Michael over there, John here, and Mrs. Darling by the fire.  there should have been a fourth nightlight.
While she slept she had a dream.  She dreamt that the Neverland had come too near and that a strange boy had broken through from it.  He did not alarm her, for she thought she had seen him before in the faces of many women who have no children.  Perhaps he is to be found in the faces of some mothers also.  But in her dream he had rent the film that obscures the Neverland, and she saw Wendy and John and Michael peeping through the gap.



i just woke up.

i'm sitting here enjoying the tenderness of this story... the childlikeness... 

and my ears perk as i hear some boys from my building talking about how one of them walked in on my friend maddie in the shower.
"she has HUGE tits."
...

i am crying... in my lobby... 
silently and alone...
but.... after letting it go for a couple seconds i had to say something...

so i chewed them out.

as soon as i opened my mouth three of the boys scattered.  
one of them JUST came up to me to thank me.
he patted me on the shoulder and said "atta girl"
what about him?

i sorta gave him a hard time... why didn't he do anything?

i just can't believe it.
You could tell they were embarrassed as they walked away...
well brian's here... and I need someone to talk to.

Friday, February 6, 2009

bananas and john mayer... and interpretive dancing.

prayer.

honestly, prayer is the most powerful thing i can do with my time.

i've been realizing it more and more...
if i ask people to cover something in prayer... it turns out to bring God glory and i have peace with the situation.

here this week i had two situations that seemed overwhelmingly complex and difficult...
so many things could go wrong.

but i prayed.
and i asked a couple trusted others to pray and everything was smoothed over by God's hand and everything went the best way imaginable.

God answers our prayers by granting us peace ALWAYS.
if he doesn't give us the answer we think we are seeking he at least grants us the peace of taking it out of our hands.


Thursday, February 5, 2009

chris is the best.

rain rain on the skylight panes.

Art and Faith Topic:

how do I react to people who I don't think are doing christianity right?


i think, this has been my lesson for the week.
meeting with josh last night really showed both of us that we've been handling it wrong.... or i have anyways...

I NEED TO REMOVE THE LOG OUT OF MY OWN EYE.
and sometimes... that log (as i've learned from my mom) is the judgement I feel towards people beCAUSE of their speck.

how do I react to people who I don't think are doing christianity right?
1. pray for them.
2. ask Jesus to help ME do it right and after he proves himself to be a helper, pray for him to increase my sphere of influence.

thats all i got right now.


lets all just take a second...

to watch this amazing video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=txqiwrbYGrs

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

LUKE ACTS CLASS

i just had the COOLEST luke acts class ever.
k.
1. this girl that i really wanted to get to know (cause she seems super cool) was in my group today.
2. we were starting to look at historical context today and my group got the description of "SON OF GOD" for Jesus... and the places in scripture where thats used and what it would mean.

K.
Luke 3:21-22 & Luke 9:28-35 tell us the significance of God calling Jesus his son.
The first is at Jesus' baptism : you know, the one where the dove descends and God speaks for the first time in 400 years... and not even through a prophet but AUDIBLY! and everyone hears him say that JESUS is his son, the chosen one, with whom he is well pleased.
The latter is the transfiguration: where Jesus takes Peter and John up onto the mountain and Moses and Elijah appear (very much waited upon by Hebrews because many believed Moses had never died, and Elijah DIDNT.  Most Jews believed that sometime before the Messiah came these two prophets would come to speak again).  God again calls Jesus his chosen one and commands for all to listen to him.

Other scripture we studied could be located in : Luke 2:41-51 (12 year old in the temple : "father's house")
Luke 22:66-71 (answer to those trying him "I AM")
John 10:10 (Jesus has come to bring life, and life abundant : God gives life)
John 15:23 (hating Jesus is hating the father.  You cannot believe in YHWH and not in Jesus)

THEN IT GOT GOOD.
i love learning new things... and not in like an arrogant way but i feel like it happens so rarely in classes on scripture or in church... certainly i'm reminded of things but its rare that i learn brand new things that i've never heard of before! and i KNOW there is so much out there I DONT KNOW so its sorta frustrating that we never seem to break new ground.

but today we did!

k.  as we know, when a person in Hebrew culture said a phrase in an assembly they sometimes were referring to a larger passage from the Torah or from other major writings.  Hebrews who were brought up well all knew at least the Torah from memory if they had ANY education at all.  Others knew even more...
When God says : "This is my son, the chosen one, of whom I am well pleased."
he is quoting Psalm 2 and the 4 poems of the suffering servant which can be found in Isaiah.

( I LOVE THIS PART OF HEBREW CULTURE: it means theres so much more to be delved out)

first: 
Psalm 2
At first when we read this we were SUPER confused... 
why would God refer to this???
like... some of it makes sense... but DEFINITELY not most of it.
k... thank you to all of the bible commentators who are WAY smarter than me... and to Mr. Mark Duzik my bible professor who thought we should take the time to study the history of sayings in the N.T.  I learned today that Psalm 2 is a coronation song.

They would sing this when a new king was crowned in Israel.

Why are (A)the nations in an uproar
         And the peoples (B)devising a vain thing? 
    2The (C)kings of the earth take their stand
         And the rulers take counsel together
         (D)Against the LORD and against His [a](E)Anointed, saying, 
    3"Let us (F)tear their fetters apart
         And cast away their cords from us!" 
    4He who [b]sits in the heavens (G)laughs,
         The Lord (H)scoffs at them. 
    5Then He will speak to them in His (I)anger
         And (J)terrify them in His fury, saying, 
    6"But as for Me, I have installed (K)My King
         Upon Zion, (L)My holy mountain." 
    7"I will surely tell of the decree of the LORD:
         He said to Me, 'You are (M)My Son,
         Today I have begotten You. 
    8'Ask of Me, and (N)I will surely give (O)the nations as Your inheritance,
         And the very (P)ends of the earth as Your possession. 
    9'You shall [c](Q)break them with a rod of iron,
         You shall (R)shatter them like earthenware.'" 
    10Now therefore, O kings, (S)show discernment;
         Take warning, O [d]judges of the earth. 
    11Worship the LORD with (T)reverence
         And rejoice with (U)trembling. 
    12Do homage to (V)the Son, that He not become angry, and you perish in the way,
         For (W)His wrath may [e]soon be kindled 
         How blessed are all who (X)take refuge in Him!


So when God said that Jesus was his son in Luke 3:21-22 every Jew in the place was immediately realizing that this coronation passage from their history (which had recently been thought to describe the Messiah) and was immediately thinking... JESUS IS A KING.
and not only that surface answer but that he had the nations for an inheritance and the earth for a possession.
That Jesus would use his rod (*symbol of power and authority) to shatter the nations (who have just been described as plotting against the Lord).
So... the promise to all the people present and us today is that we will be "blessed [should we] take refuge in Him!"(v. 12).

BUT.

Israel expected their Messiah to be a king... so while this was amazing... 
it didn't have the shock value that the second part did...

SERVANTHOOD.

Until this moment, the 4 poems in Isaiah of the Suffering Servant were never thought of as messianic.  When God referenced them with the words "the chosen one, with whom I am well pleased" everyone was stunned.  

Heres Isaiah 53 One of the 4

52:13 Behold, my servant shall prosper,

he shall be exalted and lifted up,

and shall be very high.

52:14 As many were astonished at him 

his appearance was so marred, beyond human semblance,

and his form beyond that of the sons of men 

52:15 so shall he sprinkle many nations;

kings shall shut their mouths because of him;

for that which has not been told them they shall see,

and that which they have not heard they shall understand.

53:1 Who has believed our message?

And to whom has the arm of the LORD been revealed?

53:2 For he grew up before him like a young plant,

and like a root out of dry ground;

he had no form or comeliness that we should look at him,

and no beauty that we should desire him.

53:3 He was despised and rejected by men;

a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;

and as one from whom men hide their faces

he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

53:4 Surely he has borne our griefs

and carried our sorrows;

yet we esteemed him stricken,

smitten by God, and afflicted.

53:5 But he was wounded for our transgressions,

he was bruised for our iniquities;

upon him was the chastisement that made us whole,

and with his stripes we are healed.

53:6 All we like sheep have gone astray;

we have turned every one to his own way;

and the LORD has laid on him

the iniquity of us all.

53:7 He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,

yet he opened not his mouth;

like a lamb that is led to the slaughter,

and like a sheep that before its shearers is dumb,

so he opened not his mouth.

53:8 By oppression and judgment he was taken away;

and as for his generation, who considered

that he was cut off out of the land of the living,

stricken for the transgression of my people?

53:9 And they made his grave with the wicked

and with a rich man in his death,

although he had done no violence,

and there was no deceit in his mouth.

53:10 Yet it was the will of the LORD to bruise him;

he has put him to grief;

when he makes himself an offering for sin,

he shall see his offspring, he shall prolong his days;

the will of the LORD shall prosper in his hand;

53:11 he shall see the fruit of the travail of his soul and be satisfied;

by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant,

make many to be accounted righteous;

and he shall bear their iniquities.

53:12 Therefore I will divide him a portion with the great,

and he shall divide the spoil with the strong;

because he poured out his soul to death,

and was numbered with the transgressors;

yet he bore the sin of many,

and made intercession for the transgressors. 

The people of Israel would have been very confused.... status was extremely important to their day... how could someone be both a servant AND a king??

As Jesus' divinity is very much debated upon I asked my professor about his opinion on Jesus' knowledge of his task at this point.

How human was Jesus' humanity?  Did he KNOW he would be giving up his life?  Did he KNOW that these prophesies were all about him before this point?

Obviously no one knows but I was wondering about the general opinion...

if anything... he at least knew it THEN.  no doubts in his mind...

I thnk its just soooo interesting to read from Israel's perspective.  I've thought about Jesus as a servant a hundred times alongside his being a KING... but to realize through their history how they discovered that for the first time... after expecting something totally different... how STRANGE they must have thought Jesus!?!

I thought it was interesting:1. I hadn't thought about Isaiah 53 in a while... Its funny because I CANNOT think of it without conjuring up memories from 5th grade.  Matt Opitz asked us to prepare and pray over something we could say on a video about Jesus being a lamb.  I remember i was doing my bible reading in the morning and I read that passage in Isaiah. 

it was the first time I'd ever heard that passage.

I remember those days... when I was first understanding that Jesus spoke to me through his word.

That prophecy was AWAKENED and made alive to me without the illumination of a pastor.

drawing connections on my own and realizing that chapter 53 was utterly and completely about my amazing savior.

He was led like a lamb to the slaughter and like a sheep before his shearers was silent.

Jesus was the ultimate servant king.


i remember that when we went to be recorded for the christmas video I was so excited to share what I'd found but Ari went before me and her mom had shown her the verse.  She said it into the microphone and for some reason my heart fell... 

I think i wanted the glory (somewhat innocently) of being able to show that I had found it by myself with Jesus... to let everyone know that even though I was a 5th grader God had shown me something that some people might not know.

I remember I didn't say it

I made something up on the spot.  Something hackneyed that they didn't even put into the video.

but... that moment on my bed with Jesus... I cried a little to myself.



What a good God I love.  Preparing for all time the greatest rescue of all time.  the best love story.  That his king, his lion of Judah would become a lamb to save me.

Sing, Oh Holy One, your prepared encouragement.


Tuesday, February 3, 2009

look up list:

SHAPE/TEXTURE
monique prieto : creates weight and tenshion using shapes
carl benjamin : california art edge/abstract paintings (father of 60's trend in california: hard edge abstraction)  
Thamas Burke: creates an illusion after using a loose pattern and creating movement as though ripples were occuring on the canvas
ingrie collom: LA artist process is interesting: tracing paper over stains on the sidewalk.  combines tracings and paints them on canvas or hammel.
sushe maikeda geikotzu: graphic look using airbrushes... to create smooth gradiation.
brett eberhard: collage pieces using cardboard boxes with different prints.
pay attention to composition and color use.
steve rhodin: shows at suzanne bellmeder gallery: creates rules within hismelf to make paintings, uses a key to provide artwork interpretation for poems, movies, songs... directly... every 4th word is interpreted THIS way... such and such.
kehinde wiley: paints black mailes and includes amazing textures in the background that often transfer to te foreground.
takashi morakami: handpainted crisp paintings, anime elements and references to pop culture.  designer of the Louis Vuitton white with colored letters print.

owl's question

I loaded this image... because... sometimes i dont realize that not everyone can read backwards and forwards... i know meaghan can... but it would be a sign of a poor videographer (cause i'm amazing ya know) to leave this video with the words all backwards and such.
MEN PROFESS TO BE LOVERS OF MUSIC, BUT FOR THE MOST PART THEY GIVE NO EVIDENCE IN THEIR OPINIONS AND LIVES THAT THEY HAVE HEARD IT. - HENRY DAVID THOREAU

diffuser.

so... andrea and i spent literally an hour smelling different diffusers.... 
my ridiculous sleep habits caused me to throw my pillow in the night last night...
LEADING TO the SPILLAGE of half of my diffuser.
COOL MAN.

COOL.

luckily it was on a piece of paper... soooooo i stuck that piece of paper into our vent and now we have this lovely smell circulating.

Monday, February 2, 2009

upon further consideration.

to elaborate... 
i think that library's are a type of tree house.
like... an old folks home for trees. :)



file under TREE houses.











butterfly nets life.


1. 3d design project number two.
2. 2d design idea for project number three.
3. card for sara.
4. postcards for friends.

tonight in the studio.

gravitate.


i need to take pictures of my room for my at homes.
i miss them and i feel like i've neglected them.

Ruth.

im so excited for how much work  Chris is putting into the Ruth series.

after just doing an intense study in Ruth i'm amazed at how much he unpacked from the 6 verses yesterday.

its like being home at solid rock... minus josh white's amazing language and singing.

today i have 3d design.  my 2nd sculpture is due wednesday eek!
i have to finish my luke acts homework...
and then meet in the marshburn library for childrens lit :)

tomorrow art and faith TOUCH discussion.
as well as 2d design (AH my project i neeeed to start)

Sunday, February 1, 2009

dumb. um.

really... this whole thing with kyler specifically just pisses me off cause it makes me feel like i was such a total idiot last semester.

touch.

for my art and faith class I'm supposed to contemplate what I touch this week.

i can't distance my touching from relational touch.

i keep trying to remind myself to think of the physical objects I gravitate to but it just doesnt really happen.
i could tell you the types of clothes i like... i know that anthropologie has the best feeling fabrics but they don't necessarily fill my wardrobe because i cannot afford them.
my room at home has a lot more physically appealing things.

aesthetics are a big part of what makes or breaks objects to me.... i think touch plays a role in this but not huge.


i cannot distance myself from the major events of the past week and weekend.
1. the interactions between those who love me and those who don't.
2. god's provision.


1. a.  the incredible complexities of relationships... my word.
people that i've invested in who are not aware of big pictures it seems.
girls who prefer catty, pettiness to investing in real lasting relationships.
boys who are too lazy to realize that their actions today will affect who they are surrounded with tomorrow.
people in general who lose sight of the big picture and allow themselves to be fooled into thinking that their motives are pure when their actions indicate a mere venting of personal confusion and frustration.

b. people who somehow are capable of REALLY knowing the worst parts of me and loving me all the same.
you can really see that Jesus is working in someone when their love gives them absolutely nothing back and yet they are active and JOYFUL in their sacrifice.
michelle's tender offerings of prayer and recitation of small verses touched me.
andrea's discreet reminders constantly throughout the day touch me.
grahm's ability to love me after what i did to him and to consider me his best friend all the same touches me every time we talk.
my dad's tender emails touch me because of how different they seem now that i'm away and i can tell he misses me.

it's just interesting to see ... idk how to describe it ... but the intangible... indescribable difference between people who really love you... and people who see you as simply a place holder for their time.

i want to pursue the latter relationships.
especially after what andrea said yesterday about her perspective of looking on and being so frustrated at the ties i've made with unhealthy situations and people.
michelle basically said the same thing... 

2.  God has done so much for me.
i know i've already written about it but... the desk.

such a tangible blessing.

i can't really say anymore after that... wow.