stay with me

Okay, so this may not look like much at first, but stay with me.

Today in chapel we had this great speaker, but before that we had an amazing worship time. This girl came up on stage and painted while musicians sang and played. I watched as she painted--me being a painter myself, I was extremely interested. She began with a face, then a robe, you know--the typical Jesus garb. She continued to define features and hands and such (which does not show up well in the picture due to stage lights being turned off by the time i took the pic).

The part that got me was when she slapped and smeared the white at the bottom of the canvas. She was dressed in all black, down on her knees on the stage. She submerged her hands in buckets of white paint and smeared and slapped and smugged the white all across the bottom--so fast it was almost breathless. I don't know why this affected me so. It did something to me that made tears come to my eyes. The quickness of her gestures, the pure color of the white contrasting with the black, the message of his glory and shattered death.

It did something to me, I just can't describe. I guess that was the whole point. I loved it.

the plight of facebook

"Never compare, oh never never never compare. You will have an amazing story too."

Facebook has this ethereal way of pulling you into other people's lives. It's almost like a movie. You see them get married, have a beautiful home, take vacations, do well in graduate school. You see friends you thought you forgot move off to far away incredible places, find purpose in jobs or schools. You see people who have lost weight, you see happiness seem to just spring up all over the place--for everyone else.

Somehow on Facebook you see the happiness and joy in other's lives but forget about your own life (and quite possible, you focus on promoting your life in such a way that makes yours look just as happy as the others). I'm guilty.

I have grown to almost hate facebook, and yet I continue to stay a part of this crazy web of connecting. It is very easy for me to throw my own pity party when I see how beautiful some one else's life is. I get envious of their marriage, their living situation, their degree, the sense of love they have for God, or even their beauty.

I forget that I have my own story! I have my own pictures and memories. Yes, I may not have a marriage (or even a prospect worth mentioning), but I have my life, I have my future, my dreams, my nearly approaching two degrees accompanied by my senior show (finally!). I have amazing opportunities opening up soon--and if not I will find openings for my life to fit into.

My life doesn't have to wait on the sideline and peer into everyone else's, I can pick up my head and decide that even though facebook is a remarkably popular tool that people use to stay connected, it does not define us. I define me and what I do, I define how wonderful my life is.

And by golly!!!! It's wonderful.

dredly confession

Okay. Honesty time. Truthfully I'm not sure what it is about a man with dreds. I become powerless and extremely self aware. My speech gets stifled and my face most certainly begins to blush--but, most awkward is my staring. I can't help it.

For example--there's this freshman at my college. I have no idea what his name is. I was actually introduced one time--and i think i managed to be cool--but now, i have this strange thing. I stare at him with zero shyness. You know, sometimes you stare at someone you think is beautiful for like a second, or two, okay, maybe three seconds. You may steel a glance at them again in a little while or whatever, but for some reason, for me, for guys with dreds (and especially if he has blue eyes!!!) i have this obsession with just looking at them--for extended periods of time.

This guy at school. So, one time i was noticing him in the coffee shop and well, the strangeness happened. His friend noticed me staring and then dred guy decided to turn around and see who his friend was talking about it. He looked straight at me and then turned right back around. I didn't avert my gaze or change my line of vision. It's like an uncontrollable thing. I don't get it. Thankfully I don't meet many people with dreds--and trust me, i'm not attracted to all of them, some dred guys are just weird. but for some strange reason i love love love dreds. i really hope my future husband has dreds.

dumpster diving

It's great having friends who actively check dumpsters because when they check behind old navy and then text you that there are dummies --or rather, busts of dummies!--you can rush right down there and grab three of them.

had to say it

Men are absolutely rediculous. Not all of them--i know that was a blanket statement. I'm not sure how to believe that there are good ones out there, i don't seem to run into many of them, but i've met a few, so i know they exist. i just happen to have mostly rediculous ones in my past...and well present...mmm mostly.

truer words

"There ought to be a whole separate language, she thought, for words that are truer than other words--for perfect, absolute truth. It was the purest fact of her life: she did not understand him, and she never would."
Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant
Pearl pg 10

I'm reading this book for my American Fiction class and this statement really struck me. It is such a true thing. We throw words around like they are meaningless. We hardly even pause to really think about things on most days--flippantly saying this or that to catch a response, or we blurt things out wishing we could take them back in once we see the reaction or hear their response.

Words have power, but we use them so much so often that they lose it.

I would love it if we had a different language--a completely new set of words to use when we were really serious about something. It would tell people that we really mean what we say.

Or rather, how about we start thinking more and saying less--that would be nice, because then, as a rule, what we say would be meaningful, but sadly I don't think that will happen on a grand scale, but it would be grand.