in the country, everybody thinks we’re dumb

There is no doubt I’m a city girl.  I go away from the city for too long and my Chucks are begging for concrete.  However, I stay in the city for too long, and I’m begging to get out of here by any means possible.  I’m kind of like a hybrid—though, generally more efficient in the city.

in the country the farms and the orchards swell with oranges and peaches / a little bit of truth as well / in the city, politicians beat their drum / all the suits come around and it’s our degeneration

life marches on / life marches on . . .

in the country everybody thinks we’re dumb / we build the fire / why’d you come and get you some?  / in the city, skyscrapers touch the sky / what’s the use of being so high when it’s only gonna bring you down

in the country stars shine brighter / than in the city / in the country, in the country

in the city i turn on the radio / only leaves me down with the question “what happened to our generation?”

Life Marches On, Live

I require some country in me sometimes.  I’m good with some time on my own.  I need some time on my own.  I’m too contemplative, probably too sensitive, to not need time alone when I’m feeling reflective.  I’ve written hundreds upon hundreds of pages of just stuff, filled dozens of notebooks contemplating.  At the cabin, at the other cabin, on the road, in hotel rooms, in airplanes, in cars and trucks and buses.  Contemplation of life, of school, of problems and then . . . of God.  And God’s presence in life, in school, in problems.  Hours with a video camera, a still camera, capturing moments.  Maybe that’s why I do all this – capture moments.

The country, I think, gives us a better connection with the world around us, because it takes away much of that clutter that we deal with every day.  the stars shine brighter.  Metaphorically or literally, the air is clearer.  We can reflect and see things reflect.

I’m a city girl.  I love my concrete.  But, I think I was socialized with a little bit of gravel road in me too.

uploaded Feb 2011 018

and in this moment i am happy . . . happy.

i wish you were here, incubus

i only notice Your face, no matter what You’re gonna break my shell

I’m Sorry | Flyleaf

So the day started off sucking.  I woke up to a nosebleed [which like, never happens but has happened twice this winter], both my debit cards and my bus pass were missing, and you know, it was early.  I was pretty much ready to write the day off before it even started.

Starbucks fixed me.  Not only because of the copious amounts of caffeine and sugar it caused me to consume, which did help, and not only because it was delicious, but because out of nowhere, Starbucks messed up both mine and Terina’s drinks which we looked at in confusion as they arrived on the counter:

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That is one heck of a Frappuccino.  Not only that, is that I discovered White Mocha Frappuccinos, which are delicious and I was okay to consume a large amount of white mocha Frapp due to that delicious.  But yes, huge.  Thank goodness for Tiffani sitting beside me helping me with it throughout the service this morning.

The Frappuccino sat under my chair as the service went on and as the service ended awaiting consumption, perhaps awaiting when I would need another cheer-up. 

Our latest series is on tough stuff in general–today was no exception, today delivered, because life can be hard.  They’re services that it’s hard to get through if you have any sort of personal connection to the topic.  Today’s service was especially hard for one of my friends sitting beside me, and it spoke to parts of my past, too, parts that I have overcome with Jesus . . . things that Jesus is working in my friend to overcome.  At times like that, He Loves Us is more impactful than it is on a non-heavy Sunday morning.  I definitely didn’t get through “I don’t have time to maintain these regrets when I think about . . . how He loves us.” without some tears (which happens more often than not.  I mean, how GOOD is that lyric?]

I firmly believe though that tears are outward signs of God working on the inside, outward signs of beginning or continual healing, and that is a really cool thing.  A thing that lead to the end of service, sitting with my arms around the same friend from above and just praying for God to help her feel that He is walking with her through this . . . tears heal.  Love heals.  JESUS heals.

And Starbucks to pick you up again doesn’t hurt . . . prayer being draining is definitely a good thing too.  There is LIGHT in all of this.  But if darkness didn’t exist . . . light wouldn’t matter.  It is amazing how God created such things to complete one another.

The irony is, LIGHT ended up being our unintentional theme in our room today with the three year olds.  I was trying to think up a quote about children [since our Bible verse had already been there a month] for our board.  I got this:

photo (14) The lady at the desk behind me told me I was very creative when I was drawing stars all over it.  I think being creative is a prerequisite for working with three year olds.  So, I guess I’m in the right place.  [See also: I know how to deal with criers and new kids ;).  New kiddo today and it was her family’s first time at our church.  She clung to her mom, I showed them around, she got excited by the trains, and did not care about her mom leaving anymore (though, she did wait for me before going anywhere, but that works, whatever).

Here was our craft:photo (15)

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How cute is that?

LIGHT, hugs and high-fives from three year olds and goofy praise songs were exactly what I needed after the service.

(Oh yeah, and my bus pass and one of two debit cards were found)

. . . Cause there’s a light in your eyes, and it tells me that God is on our side.

Light in Your Eyes | Flyleaf

musings on art

I’ve been able to create forms of pseudo-art with words for years.  I would argue to say that as music is art, writing is also.  Creative being, creative making, is art.

However, the kind of art I am generally not good at, is the type that most people think of when they think art.  Drawing, painting, sketching, and creating with mediums like chalk, charcoal and pastels.

I have tired.  I went through art supplies to no avail as a child.  I got charcoal when I was thirteen or so.  I can create things, as anyone can, and call it art, but it is not a talent of mine.  And while I can draw a dinosaur or a campsite as prompted by a kid at work, I don’t do this type of art to my own devices anymore since I never felt like I was accomplishing anything

This being said, because I don’t ‘do’ this type of art, I don’t typically discover artists which kind of sucks.  I find the artists who do music and then do art as an extension of their creative being, or vice versa.

Brandon Boyd — the lead singer of Incubus and furthermore, a creative genus — creates intricate pieces of artwork that I do not yet understand.  Yet combined with my love for his music, a commonality, I feel we all can share some sort of connection through art to each other.

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Create how you will, how you want.

But let nothing stop you from creating.