Everyday Authenticity

my heart hasn't been so happy in weeks

2009-03-07T19:02:00.000-08:00

this video is just beautiful. it makes me smile so very much

cat stevens - two fine people

2008-12-15T23:22:00.000-08:00

Now that I've passed your test
How can I prove to you baby I'll never let you down
If I led you around, I'm sorry
But I never meant to worry you.... no
Now that I've kissed your breast
How can I prove to you baby I'll never make you sad
If I ever had, do believe your tears won't come back again

I love you,
though the stars may fade and mountains turn into sand.
I love you
'Til my body changes into an old man.
I love you
And the song that I sing is the only way that I can explain
La la la la la la

You know i wish for you baby nothing but good times ahead
Anything that heaven can give you,
I can give you instead
La la la la la la
How could I lie to you baby, I'll never lead you around
I'll take care of everything you need, darling
Every little need'll be found.

I love you,
though the time may change and snowmen sleep in the sea
And I really only want you to want me.
I love you
And the song that I sing is the only way that i can explain

Now that you've shown your heart
I'll be right with you baby, I'll never leave you alone
Anywhere you want me to be honey, I'll be there to have and to hold
And now that the clouds roll back, hold on to me baby
We're going never to land, flying on the power of love
Flying on the power of love.

I love you
Though time may fade and mountains turn into sand
I love you,
'til the very same come back to the land
I love you
and the song that I sing is the only way that I can explain

Two fine people should love each other
Two fine people should help each other

movies

2008-11-23T17:07:00.000-08:00

Across the street from my apartment complex is a movie theatre where I saw a movie this afternoon for $5. This seems reasonable to me. It was a matinee showing, the regular showings cost $7. Of course, most of the movies out right now are shit anyways, but I went to go participate in an traditional social even with my sister and her boyfriend and her room mate. I love them and try to show up in my sister's life as much as possible. We we were waiting for her roommate to show up, we were discussing the prices of movie tickets at home.
9.74? 12.75? Something along those lines. Liz seemed to think it was cheaper, but David pointed out it had been a while since she had paid for a movie ticket. Touche. But it brought into striking light the fact that since the time we were all old enough to start going to the movies, prices have doubled, quadrupled it seems like. I'm sure grown ups feel like this about stuff all the time, but it was a weird feeling. I honestly can't morally justify going to the movies anywhere but my pet, cheap theater across the street. But even since I was a little kid, I couldn't bear to buy popcorn in the theatres. That's crazy expensive. Sneaking in candy will do just fine, thank you.
I defiantly shouldn't be having adult kind of thoughts.

do you remember

2008-11-22T15:52:00.000-08:00

One of the first blogs I posted was about the curly haired boy who brought sunshine into chapel for me. This boy has been oddly off mic all semester. I've heard him sing before, I know it would make the music so much better. But the image of chapel, of most worship bands, is pretty preset. I mean, there can be variations. Sometimes there are different kinds or combinations of drums. Sometimes there are several non instrument playing vocalists, sometimes only one, sometimes none. Usually the non instrument playing vocalist role is where women or girls find a place in the worship scene. But the one, almost unchanging factor is the worship leader. Which is a funny title, if you ask me. Don't worry though - no one asks me.
Anyways, so this worship leader is always the primary vocalist, playing guitar (usually acoustic) and, 99% of the time, is male. If this individual isn't male, be suspicious. Some fishy liberal agenda is at work.
Well, in our chapel, the worship leader is this wholesome, innocent looking Christian boy. Not that there's anything wrong with him looking innocent and wholesome; the self-absorbed man-whore from last year was creepy. Anyways, this year's boy is cute, and definitely says good little in between song transitions or prayers. Good in the sense that they are cliche-filled and bible verse-esque enough to qualify as church approved, and awkward enough to qualify as spontaneous and spiritual. I digress.
This worship leader boy always is the primary vocal, and then there is a panel of backup vocalists. All very lovely. But sunshine boy never gets a mic, and I always wish he would. Of course I also someimtes wish everyone else on stage would just disappear, or imagine if he were on mic we would magically not be singing cheesy worship songs. But that's just me over reacting. Ignore that.
Well, last week in chapel, curly sunshine boy was on mic. He was coming in and out with his vocals, bringing satiating harmony to the songs. His voice is beautiful, his performance unpolished. Just enough to make me smile.

music from high school

2008-11-10T12:00:00.000-08:00

First of all today was the miracle of all miracles. I forgot that my morning class was canceled, and then I remembered, which was a pleasant surprise. As I happily trotted off to get in extra hour and a half of homework, I ran into a friend who informed me that our afternoons class was canceled. Upon checking my email I found that she was right. All my classes for the day = gone. delightful.

OK, so delight number two. Listening to music from my high school days. Pop punk was perfect for inciting both defiance and dancing. Embarassing fact? Good Charlotte still does it for me. Who doesn't like boys with eyeliner dissing rich celebs and rejecting authority?

Lifestyles of the rich and the famous
only see it on tv
read it in the magazines
celebrities that want sympathy

all they do is piss and moan
inside the rolling stone
talking about how hard life can be

Id like to see them spend the week
livin life out on the street
I dont think they would survive

but they could spend a day or two
walking in someone elses shoes
I think they'd stumble and they'd fall
they would fall
Fall

Lifestlyes of the rich and the famous
theyre always complainin
always complainin
if money is such a problem
well they got mansions
think we should rob them

well did you know when your famous you could kill your wife
and theres no such thing as 25 to life
as long as you got the cash to pay for cochran

and did you know if you were cought and you were smokin crack
and McDonald's wouldnt even wanna take you back
you could always just run for mayor of D.C.

So good, right? And "The Anthem," even better. It makes me happy because it reminds me of all the good times I had in high school with certain friends, and because I will never grow out of punk music. What other music's only purpose of existing is to say, in an almost endearingly wholesome way, "you want me to do what? you see me how? screw that. i'm out." Of course the album is heavily laced with emo music about how rough it is to be a teenager, but I probably will never grow out of that stuff either.

anthem

It's a new day, but it all feels old
It's a good life, that's what I'm told
But everything, it all just feels the same
At my high school, it felt more to me like a jail cell, a penitentiary
My time spent there it only made me see

That I don't ever wanna be like you
I don't wanna do the things you do
I'm never gonna hear the words you say
and I don't ever wanna.
I don't ever wanna be.you.
don't wanna be just like you
What I'm saying is this is the anthem
throw all your hands up
you.don't wanna be you

Go to college, a university, get a real job
That's what they said to me
But I could never live the way they want
I'm gonna get by and just do my time
Out of step while they all get in line
I'm just a minor threat, so pay no mind

Do you really want to be like them,
Do you really wanna be another trend,
Do you wanna be part of that crowd
cause I don't ever wanna.
I don't ever want to be you.
don't wanna be just like you
what I'm saying is.this is the anthem
throw all your hands up.you.
don't wanna be you.

Another loser anthem, whoa . . .

my election experience

2008-11-06T15:21:00.000-08:00

My stomach was churning all day Tuesday.

All day.

I had voted absentee, so I was jealous of everyone's "I Voted" stickers in a goofy and nerdy way. Everyone was really excited. Voting is an event we all participate in together. The mood Tuesday was reflective of this, as well as the significance of the decision that was ahead. I called my mom, who was making our traditional tri-layered jello desert from a United States shaped mold. We have radically different political views, but we chatted excitedly to each other about the upcoming election, the festivities surrounding, and my frazzled nerves.

After an anxious day of classes and work, I finally made it to my friend's apartment where several of us could watch the results come in together. It's important to be with people who are rooting for the same team as you. There's a lot of talk about just getting out there and voting, no matter who you vote for. Which is important. But when the results come in, being around fellow aficionados is delightful. So we watched the results, getting more excited as more results came in for Obama.

As we made conversation (and it's funny how much people of the same political views love to talk with each other; it makes sense, but it's humorous how we constantly feel the need to affirm all aspects of our homogeneous beliefs), someone was noticed the announcer's voice say " . . . it has been officially predicted . . . ". "Woah, wait, what did he say?" Shhhh, shush, listen, what did he say? Wait, is this is? Yup, he did it. This is it! Obama won, it official. Oh my god. Oh shoot!!

We all stared at the TV in disbelief and ecstasy. As we kept ridiculously asking each other if he really did it, the celebration built to a crescendo in our tiny little apartment. Watching the TV, seeing the faces of so many celebrations, hearing the voices of so many Americans, everyone's heart was in their throat.

"Wait a minute, you guys. I think . . . I'm kind of . . . proud to be an American right now. What is this feeling? This is weird, I don't know how to deal with this."

Mary's confusion resonated with us all.

Listening to the speeches really did us in. The 44th President elect, a black man, was speaking with calming sobriety. He was telling us that now the work can begin, now the change can come, only if we fight for it together. Yes we can. We were all sobbing and cheering and shushing.

They talk about hope. For the last several weeks I didn't know what they hell they were talking about. And the following morning, when I found out that the majority of California chose to constitutionalize discrimination, I lost sight of hope. When I heard about all the hatred and racism that ensued on my campus, I lost sight of hope. But in our little apartment, that night, there was hope. And pride.

Change had come. Hopefully more will follow.

today's the day

2008-11-04T15:12:00.000-08:00

I can't stop thinking about the elections. I've never been guenuinely nervous about something like this before. Excited, interested, sure. But I am terrified that prop 8 is going to pass. And once something like that passes, going back will be so difficult. They want to ammend the California constitution. I don't understand how so many people in California, or anywhere for that matter, would want to deliberatly and knowingly guarentee inequalities based on sex. But good lord, it's California. We're supposed to be the crazy liberal state about the fall of the edge of the country and into hell. Why are there so many Yes on Prop 8 signs around? Well, obvious reasons. People pay a lot of money.
Fear is a powerful thing.

perfectly clever

2008-11-02T13:16:00.000-08:00

This one is definately the best. The other one's were clever, but this hits the nail on the head.

awkwardly clever

2008-11-02T13:14:00.000-08:00

So the same clever people from before did another video. It's one of those situations that is so awkward it makes you cringe. But it makes the point nicely :)

clever

2008-11-02T13:11:00.000-08:00

It's interesting to me how some people think.
These short videos point it out perfectly.

la placita olvera

2008-10-26T12:39:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we went down to La Placita Olvera in downtown LA to the encampment where people are fasting in order to bring attention to immigrant's rights. In the steps of Cesar Chavez's fasting, the Rise, an immigrants rights organization, planned a 21 day fast and camp out for the 3 weeks leading up to the presidential elections. While not everyone involved camps and fasts the entire 21 day period, many have their tents pitched and are in it for the entirety. The idea is that collectively, those involved fast for 21 days, allowing students and other individuals to contribute by fasting however days they can. The participants denial of food is meant to motivate 1,000,000 people to sign a pledge to vote for immigrants rights. The pledge names the oppression of immigrants, calls for change, and includes a promise to vote in such a way.

I went to Saturday because they were having a student summit, trying to get university students assembled and involved. We learned about non-violence, heard the testimonies of many of those involved, and made signs to put around the encampment. Some of the signs and stencils for shirts were The Rise's logo - the statue of liberty's fist in the air. The location for such an activity was perfect - the foot of Olvera St, the well known little area of downtown LA that is home to Hispanic shops, food, and performance. Directly across the street from Union station, the area attracts tourists as well as people just on their way.

I was surprised and kind of sad at the number of students that came out for the event. My little school brought the largest number from one university. I have no idea how to mobilize people to care about such important issues. But it was encouraging the talk to the people who were there. Even being on the 11th day of the fast, they were still full of energy and passion. I hope the momentum increases and as election day draws near, people won't forget to hold whatever administration they want to see enter office accountable to treat immigrants with the same human rights everyone deserves.

I don't know how fear can create such hardened hearts and inhumane laws and policies. But if you go to la Placita Olvera, you can't help but let your heart be softened. I couldn't help but wonder how to make these voices be heard. How to make my voice heard? The weekend before the elections I'm going to fast with them. Solidarity is powerful, it means unity, and that can bring power. Hope shouldn't die just because of tourists who want to enjoy the culture available to them because of immigrant families, yet are passive to policies that tear these same families apart.

One of the young men from my school made a poster that had a quote from the statue of liberty that seemed to put everything into chilling perspective. I hope America can listen.

"Give me your tired, your poor,Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,The wretched refuse of your teeming shore."

stained glass and visions in white

2008-10-13T20:55:00.000-07:00

Weddings are such odd social occasions. The bride gets all dressed up (to the point of looking like her ever so expensive wedding cake sometimes) and the poor groom wears the same thing as all the other men in the wedding. People are crying everywhere for no reason. I mean the reason is that they're happy. So I'm told. Except that anyone who knows anything knows that the mothers and inlaws and bride and maybe even bridesmaids have all been nervous wrecks and probably at each other's throats at some point prior. The groom gets to have a wedding ring now, to match the ring that has declared his claim on the bride since the moment she agreed to be his. And everyone is very formal and serious as two people sign the rest of their lives away to each other. It's wonderful and beautiful and dealthy terrifying at the same time. But everything is decked in rose petals, so no one minds.
I never want to be in one of these. I mean, in one as that one main girl in a white puffy dress who's such a big deal. Such a big deal that she can't even make the decision herself to take those vows of committment. She has to be given away, handed off from one male care taker to another. No thank you - patriarchy makes my bones shudder.
But for many people, this cultural phenomenon is an important and meaningful one. And even though I don't understand it, I can look at my friends who I know and love and be glad for their happiness in it. I know they love each other, what does it matter the ceremony they use to declare it, to seal the deal. It scares the shit out of me, but it makes them happy. And when people I love are happy, it makes me happy. Better yet, when I know they are happy becuase of something stong and good and true, it is beautiful. What they have isn't mine, it's theirs. And I'm glad I got to witness it.
Hopefully our culture will change, and the ceremonies commonly used to declare the bonding of two people won't have so many wierd, arguably unhealthy rituals. Until then, I just hold out til the reception, where we can all dance together.

the presidential debates

2008-10-08T19:29:00.000-07:00

6:01 pm

They are so predictable. Obama opening with his proclamation that "the middle class needs a rescue package," and McCain with his call to "stop the spending spree in Washington." Oh politicians.

6:07pm

I know this is really probably embarrassing, but I don't have a clue who Fanny Mae and Freddie Mac are. But whoever they are, they certainly call out the candidates desire to attack each other. McCain called them Obama's "cronies." Who says that?

But of course, Obama was right back in his face with his snide little comment about having to refresh McCain's history, which was "no surprise."

And delightfully, Obama told the audience how they "weren't interested in politicians pointing fingers," so let's actually talk or some similar implication. Don't make promises you can't keep, my friend.

6:15

Most assuredly, Obama could not keep his promise. Not two questions later and he's pointing fingers at Bush for the economy. And everything that's wrong in the world.

6:18

Straightforward questions are just disasters waiting to happen. The moderator asked how the candidates would order these priorities: health care, energy, and entitlements. McCain said we could take on all three at one time. Easy, no problem. "We can take on this mission, we can overcome." Next.

It seemed like Obama was going to answer. Number one was energy. But then I got distracted by his outlandish claim that he will be able to make the U.S. completely free from foreign oil in 10 years. Sure, okay. Number two was health care, and number three was education. Too bad education wasn't on the list he was asked to order. I think education should be a priority and everything, but Obama should use his listening ears a little more or something. It's cool though, I'm sure entitlements will take care of themselves.

6:30

The candidates were asked what they would ask the American people to sacrifice. McCain said projects, earmarks, and programs, even some really good programs. His freeze spending on everything but veterans and entitlements is scary. But he went on to say "I'm not going to tell that person without health care, "I'm sorry, you'll have to wait."" That claim struck me as very odd, because it just seems like that's exactly what his health care plan will continue to be doing.

6:37

So cheesy! It's like listening to your grandpa tell jokes that aren't funny, but he's old, so what are you gonna do? But this McCain guy's on national TV running for President of the country! Jello? Something about nailing Obama's plan down is as easy as nailing down Jello. And then opening his response to another question with a really awkward, "Okay, I'll answer the question." after Obama's response to the question, inherring of course that Obama is an incompetent, sleasy politician with no interest in the issues or responsibility. Ha ha?

6:45

I liked when the moderator asked them if health care is a privilege, a right, or a responsibility. They both actually picked one of the given options. I was much more impressed with Obama's response. McCain chose responsibility. "We all know it's a responsibility," and answered with a strong air suggesting that we all know the right way to do things and Obama just wants to screw things up. The flaw is that if we all know how to do things, why are things so screwed up already? Obama took the stand that health care is a right, and he responded well to McCain's attack on his requirement that children have health care and government accountability with health care plans.

7:15

The peacemaker question was exciting just because it raised a discourse about genocide and humanitarian efforts, and the U.S.'s role in all these things. The following question even specifically brought up Somalia, Rwanda, and Darfur, which astounded me. Granted neither of them had a very good game plan, and McCain even used it as a platform to promote his Iraq policy (cruel irony at it's best), it was still an important step in our world and for our terribly isolated nation.
That having been said, I was sick to my stomach that McCain continued to equate the United States with everything good and righteous. Throughout the debate he kept saying how we have "the best" producers, workers, innovators, etc in the world, and how as Americans we are inherently more equipped to reduce any complex national or international problem to nothing. But more abrasive than this typical nationalism was his insistence that the U.S. is "the greatest force for good in the world," and even the greatest country of good to ever have existed.

7:24

All the foreign policy discussion thrown in at the end of the debate seems serious and ambiguous at the same time. Obama, while not appearing the idiot McCain would make him out to be, doesn't seem to have many good plans regarding foreign policy. Other than diplomacy, which should be assumed anyways. I hate to keep harping on the same points but McCain kept painting this picture of us (the greatest force of good capable of restoring justice to all situations) against them (the evil, nuke hungry, terrorist harboring world). He even did one of his uncomfortable old man laughs when he said "maybe" Russia was an evil empire.

7:32
The ending was lame. But I saw it coming. They were asked a terribly poignant question - "What don't you know and how will you learn it?" Not even the moderator pretended to expect an answer, of course leaving them both wide open to say whatever ending sentiments they desired.

7:49
One of the professors at the discussion I sat in on pointed out that the format was set up in strong favor of the candidates. The town hall format doesn't allow for follow up questions, so there is no incentive to stay within the time limits, so the candidates have an opportunity to say basically whatever they want without having to be held immediately accountable for it.

7:52
Another good point brought up by a professor was the two images the candidates kept referring to. Obama kept pointing the finger at Bush, disassociating himself from Bush's dastardly deeds, and trying to push McCain into his evil camp. McCain kept referencing Gen. Patraeus, as the good guy with experience "just like me," entrenching himself in military expertise, and strategic "successes."

Oh politicians.

honesty

2008-10-06T19:38:00.000-07:00

All day today.

And yesterday.

And then mission chapel. holy shit. the icing on the cake.

Fake, self-absorbed, self-righteous, delusional thinking. Christianity.

But today, in class, we were open and honest and had a decent discussion. Granted, the conversation was comprised of a large quantity of depressing dialogue on how repressive and unhealthy this huge thing is in which we have all invested huge portions of our life. That thing being Christianity, and church.

Somewhere, there is redemption.

All I have right now is honesty, which I hope will keep me afloat for now.

attributed to jackon pollock

2008-10-05T13:01:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to the opening reception of the art exhibit that has recently arrived at APU, the little Christian school I attend. Apparently a man named Erich Neumeth had a large collection of paintings that are "attributed" to Jackson Pollock. The problem is, they aren't signed by Pollock. People have copied Pollock's distinct style many times in the past, and now our dear little school may have stolen and/or forged art tumbling into their lap. The experts who have looked at the stuff say it's real. I think the stuff is pretty cool. I mean look at it. Shoot, if I could make art like that, I'd be a pretty happy camper. So anyways, it's a big deal at our school. They've been promoting it since the beginning of the semester. There was a story about it in the LA Times. That's a big deal for us. And I have a sneaky suspicion that kind of thing is precisely why APU wants the stuff here, even though they are taking a big risk making money from it.

It is a big risk. Fellows from the Getty have been arrested for this kind of thing. Selling art that's fake, or taking money from stolen art; who knows what they're going to actually do with it. All I know is that John Wallace is spouting all kinds of rhetoric about "God-honoring excellence," which makes everything okay. Our school has this ridiculous motto: "God First." No one really knows what it means, but everyone figures out a way to use it as justification to do whatever they want. In this case, the art is inherently good because it's excellent art, and excellence inherently honors God, and therefore, we're honoring God by making a crap load of money off of this excellent art. Also, we were in the LA Times. All kinds of people are paying attention to us. If that's not evangelism, I don't know what it.

So last night, we all got fancied up (well I didn't get as fancied up as you're supposed to for an art reception, because as much as I honestly like art, I've never been to this kind of thing, and I didn't get the memo. The rich kids who go to our school probably have a like a secret code for knowing what kind of events are the sort that you get dressed up for. All the prestigious old people who were there were dressed up too. I don't mind not being in on the secret code.) Nearly a dozen campus safety guards graced all the entrances and exits and corners in between. I'm sure it's a good idea, but I'm just a kid and they make me laugh.

There was a lovely jazz ensemble playing background music. I like jazz music, really I do. It's the kind of thing that rich people like because it reminds them that whatever they are doing is rich and important and sophisticated and they can afford to take the time to worry about nothing other than the soothing and soaring melodies. And the rest of us like because it makes us feel exactly the same way. They even had little tables with richly colored opalescent tablecloths and candles to sit at and just marinate in the sophistication of miniature mousse tarts and art attributed to a dead man.

After eating way to many little mini tarts, which are another ridiculous but fabulous invention of the rich, and waiting in line, we finally got to see the art. It's like I said earlier, I like art. I really like Jackson Pollock's stuff. It was groundbreaking and important. It's exciting and expressive. So I got the privilege of getting to see some really beautiful art, without any of the responsibilities of worrying about it being fake. I'm happy.

steve urkel

2008-09-29T23:14:00.000-07:00

On Skid Row in Los Angeles, live the largest number of homeless people in all of the city. After about 7or 8pm, outside the anonymous green doors of a community outreach center and the only after school program on skid row, tents will start to be pitched, as those with some kind of plan for sleeping arrangements prepare for the long night ahead. Men and women, young and old line the streets. Displaced, crowded in, shoved aside, thousands of people struggle to make it to the next day. Many are stuck in a cycle of addiction or illness that is perpetuated by their poverty.
The housing that does exist in this ever shrinking area is called residential hotels - tall dirty buildings were entire families live in a small room and are stuck paying slum lords way too much for rent because they can't save enough to move out of the harsh living conditions. The picture to the right is the Huntington Hotel, one such residential hotel, where several of my young friends live.
These friends are the children who come to the after school program with the anonymous, green double doors on 6th and San Pedro. After tutoring, dinner, and other activities, we are in charge of making sure they arrive back at their homes, safe. Whatever safe means.
Today was a particularly difficult day in the 3rd -5th grade group. Desmond and his sister Tatiana hadn't gone to school that day, so there was tension with Tecola and Kiilou, who were all in the same class and none of whom wanted to have anything to do with homework. Especially because there was no school the next day.
As the 15 passenger rickety van pulled up to the Huntington, all the kids jumped out and we began walking with them up to their rooms. Soon we found that Desmond and Tatiana's dad wasn't answering the pounding of the door. One of the staff members began trying to make calls, while the kids argued about where they could go. While passing the time on the 5th floor, the kids started playing with whatever accessories I had on that interested them, my neckless, bandanna, and most importantly, my glasses.
Kiilou, who is a tall, lanky boy, was playing with my glasses, and decided to pull his pants up as high as he could get them to go, tuck his shirt in, slouch, hold onto his belt, and squint in his best Steve Urkel impression. I didn't even think these kids were old enough to know who Steve Urkel was. But did they ever.
After bursting into laughter at Kiilou's impression, Desmond took the glasses and began the next round. Soon Killou left, but Desmond was getting more and more convincingly Urkel. As we walked down the dingy halls, it was a comical sight - a miniature Steve Urkel leading me, nearly blind without my glasses, around the corners. The kids, who had been sulky and confused moments before were laughing and smiling with me at the hilarious impersonation. Everyone we passed as we walked back down the flights of stairs, though the lobby, and across the street recognized Desmond as Steve Urkel, and they all laughed or smiled in approval.
It really was funny. Not just like a dumb joke that a little kid tells that you pretend is funny. It was simply entertaining and, although I was a little nervous about tripping and falling, it brought everyone together a little bit.
We had to take Desmond and Tatiana back to the after school program location until someone could come for them, or at least be contacted. Who knows how many nights they had spent alone or will spend alone in the future. But this night, they were together, and with the other staff, genuinely laughing.

magnificence!

2008-09-23T17:42:00.000-07:00

I was sitting in my class one morning last week, just minding my own business, trying to pay attention and not fall asleep. It's not that it's not an interesting class, I'm fairly interested in the subject and it has the potential to have practical implications in my life. The problem is that I hadn't got a lot of sleep the night before, or the night before that, or the night before that. Someone once told me that college is about three things: sleep, homework and fun, but you can only pick two. It's quite true, and my m.o. is to drop the first thing on the list.

But anyways, I'm sitting in class and we're about to break into small groups when one of the other students starts complaining about all the noise outside. "What in the world is all that?" My professor laughs her deep, throaty laugh that is somehow mildly annoying. "I'm sure we'll find out soon enough." I think her laugh is only annoying because it follows 80% of her statements. Listening to the sounds that is distracting everyone, I realize it's music. Loud music. Live music, right outside the classroom in the middle of the day. And definitely not the kind of cheesy guitar playing or almost on beat rapping I would expect at my school in the late a.m. Bright, upbeat, rich music. What in the world is going on?
If I was having a hard time focusing on class because I was tired before, I was certainly no longer tired, but I was twice as antsy to get out of class before whoever or whatever was creating this crazy beautiful music was gone. After what seemed like an eternity, I left class and scurried into the warm sunshine and deep rhythms.
There, on the lawn across from the cafeteria was a band comprised of about 10 beautiful men making the most beautiful music that could accompany sunshine. This was not an event that happened every day here. There were not the kind of people I was used to seeing here. Several types of drums, a keyboard, at least a guitar, and multiple fantastic vocals, the men danced and even called out some of the students to dance along. My sister had been frantically texting me and I met up with her and ecstatically gazed at the wondrous miracle before us.
Apparently from the Dominican Republic, the band's music was sort of a combination of Caribbean, reggae, gospel, and big band music. I'm not really an expert on what different genres of music are called or how to identify them, so pardon my ignorance. All I know is this music made me want to dance and my heart want to smile.
Students walked past the musicians, some lingering for a moment, some smiling as they walked by, some bewildered, some complacent. Others stopped and stood or sat in happy fascination along with my sister and I. After a while she had to get to class, but I just sat there as long as I could.
it isn't often that I am greeted with such a magnificent surprise, undeserved, unsuspected, unannounced. This particular surprise touched every part of my soul, engaged all my senses, made my mind forget everything that made it ache and, for a few beautiful moments, let my heart soar. I know this all sounds little bit dramatic. Calm down, I'm not loosing it. I embrace my dramatic reception of this event. If you don't embrace the little things in life, all you see is the nasty things. So blow the "little things" out of proportion. I like to ramble about the hour and a half of my day that honestly made me happy. It's magnificent.

contingencies

2008-09-20T13:03:00.000-07:00

A girl I know from home took this picture. She's really artsy and takes great photos. I think that it is such a beautiful picture and I bet many people would agree with me. Perhaps even people at my school. The tattoo on the woman's back is, of course, a commandment of Jesus. Hip, college age Christians love Bible verse ink.

I wonder what they would think if they knew the context of the picture. I wonder what they would do if they met the woman in the picture. It's certainly an unfair musing, the generalization that they would all have the same response. I know this is untrue. I know there would be varying levels of indignation and judgment and disapproval. I know some would be sad, some would be mad, some would want to love the sinner and hate the sin. But I wonder how many of them would, all the same, think the woman's intention is misplaced, her understanding of Biblical interpretation flawed.

The girl I know from home took this picture at the Pride 2008 parade in San Fransisco. It's in an album among picture of people of all shapes and sizes wearing big rainbow buttons that say "Just Married," skanky Halloween costumes, or funky hair. Maybe these are the people whom Christians think of when they condemn homosexuals. The album also has pictures of people in mom jeans and baseball hats. All the pictures were of people unashamed to embrace an unconventional lifestyle, to support those who live such a lifestyle, loving whom they love. It's a situation quickly and easily denounced by the Christian community. The Bible clearly decries such a lifestyle, any good Christian will tell you. Why, where, or how are, of course, superfluous follow up questions.

But what about looking at it from a different perspective, one that emphasizes the commandment to love? Why is it so important to always have everything figured out so that everyone fits into a category? Category 1: People who are Christians and do what the Bible says. Category 2: People who claim to be Christians but don't actually understand what the Bible says. Category 3: People who don't claim to be Christians and reject and defy what the Bible says. People in Category 1 are the only ones with the secret, infallible knowledge of what category everyone else is in. Gays mostly fall into category 3, but maybe the girl in the pictures and some others fall into category 2.

Screw the categories.

I think we should be okay with not having all the answers. Those who wave a banner of love ought to be allowed to have their voice and their place among a community that claims to follow a Rabbi whose radical mantra was love. I think "love the sinner, hate the sin" is a self righteous and pretentious contingency that thinly veils the Pharisee who loudly thanked God that he wasn't like the sinful tax collector.

In the midst of a country and a campus and a community that I don't understand, a woman on BART believes in love. And she branded it on her body. I think it's beautiful, no contingencies.

Chapel

2008-09-16T01:49:00.000-07:00

The lights. Fuchsia lights scanning over the crowds of lethargic college students intermingled with what, under normal circumstances, I could only assume to be highly caffinated students. The screen behind the musicians dances and flashes with the movements of a multi-tone neon screen saver. As the music rises and falls, (maybe that's too much credit; there are slow songs and fast ones anyway) the performers raise their hands artistically, which is apparently contagious because soon all kinds of people are waving their hands in the air, eyes closed in pious devotion. Maybe I shouldn't question their sincerity. Perhaps they have hard lives and seek comfort in feeling close to Jesus. The girl in the H&M cute but casual summer dress only talked to her parents five times this week, and they aren't buying her the newest Macbook, so maybe she feels lonely and in need of a father's arms. As the high sound volume causes the floor to vibrate and the sounds waves echo in her ears, she can almost feel His comforting touch. I capitalized "His" because I'm referring to God. And I wouldn't want to run the risk of irreverence at the expense of breaking common grammar rules. But out the classroom and back to chapel. The music majors on stage want to serve God better than anyone else can serve God, with their musical skill which is better than anyone elses musical skill, and better than all other gifts because we can all see them using it to serve God, and serve him more sacrificially than anyone so gifted could be expected. Which is of course why the worship leader's eyes are closed and he's speaking nonsense. Apparently the more ways you can figure out to say or sing the exact same thing, the more in tune you are with the spirit. As far as worship goes. Also, since all of us can't read the words that are conveniently displayed on the screen above his head, it's necessary for the worship leader to take matters into his own hands and quickly say the line we are about to sing before we sing it. You know, so we know what's coming. Wouldn't want to be thrown off by his raw musical talent that is so daringly unpredictable.
So Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings at my private Christian university are a little rough sometimes. But honestly, I don't blame anyone other than myself. However, this morning, I was in the more low key of our chapel options, and was met with a ray of sanity in the form of a golden, curly haired young man. On stage, conspicuously off mic, the electric guitarist smiled, bobbed his head, and every once in a while did a little dance to himself as he played. It's like what you see when watching a a new dad play with his beautiful little daughter, or a kid skipping through the park with a popsicle, or an artist happily splashing colors - uninhibited joy. You can tell he believes in music. Whether or not anyone is watching. I've heard him talk about music and spirituality when no one but a few mismatched kids in an old backroom were listening. He talked about why it's good and maybe that's why I believe the smile on his face and the delight in his step. But what really made my heart happy was when one of the girls on vocals started her solo. His face burst into a genuine smile. As he jammed along, he was happy to just be in the presence of and participate in her soaring melodies. It's enough to make me believe in music and in people. It's a little bit of sunshine.

hello

2008-09-14T13:20:00.000-07:00

"It is better to have a heart without words than words without a heart." –Gandhi

My name is Abigail. But mostly I go by Abbie. Often times things make a lot more sense in my head than when I say them out loud. I am clumsy. There - three authentic truths for the day. I think it's important to pursue truth and honesty, just for the sake of it. Authenticity is beautiful, even in the smallest ways. In the everyday ways. So part of this blog is about looking for honesty and authenticity within myself and the world around me.
Also, there are people in the world who see the world or at least parts of it for what it is. Sometimes these people are genuinely trying to make it a better place, and largely going unnoticed. And while cynicism is energizing and satiating, it is important to notice the good in the world and the difference that it is making. And perhaps if the difference is so little that it goes beyond notice, it should be given voice. Those people with heart listen and learn and try to share pieces of themselves the best they can. This blog is mostly about giving them words, and perhaps discovering new honesty along the way.
I took the photograph shown above at a cafe in Durban, South Africa called Bean Bag Bohemia. The colors of the wall were brilliant.