fascinating.

thankful for

china, because they were the first ones to use kites.

they used them in war.

at least, that is what answers.com says.

and now i can use them with friends.

fascinating.

me, getting fancy flying kites.

bubbles and dogs.

lounging in the sun.

waterballoons for a game.

some beach time.

and this lady.

i am thankful for

the above lady.

and friendship.

honesty, vulnerability, laughter.

as to not forget

if i do not write things down, it is inevitable that i will forget them.

but when you write things down you remember. and relive.

if you want to remember them just as they were, you write down details.

details that make you leap. and sobb.

i will be writing things down in the next few days, as to not forget

you.

them.

the me that is experiencing this all.

and i write them down so in a month or in a year i can see how God has been working in and through it all. His hand always upon me. His leading evident. His presence there.

because He is here. He is.

like loss

today is june the first.

today feels like loss.

after so much peace.

and crying.

and prayer.

and the smell of anointing oil on my face as i sleep.

today still feels like loss.

that doesn't mean the peace wasn't real. or the prayers are unfulfilled, unheard. it just means that this morning i woke up to a new reality. where we would not talk. not even to say hello or how are you. and i would not see some faces as much as i want. and i would not sit in black chairs three times a week. and i would not have to think about bringing a jacket with me because the air conditioner is blasting. now, i will be pulling into new parking lots. meeting new people. cultivating friendships i never could yesterday. because of entanglement and control and insecurity. but i can do this all today. i can do this because i said yes to change and freedom and discovering myself and Him.

there is loss, yes.

some days will be worse than others, yes.

but some days will be good and full.

i am not looking forward to either right now...

they both mean change has taken place.

and today, june the first, this very moment, i am not sure about much.

i shake my head at change.

many things seem daunting, i am afraid.

untangled

yesterday i flew kites. mine cost twelve dollars. an investment. it has two tails. one yellow, one orange. and looks like a prism of color. a rainbow. a promise.

and was mezmerized by how, once caught up by a current of wind, they were weightless.

they were suspended in the air. the only thing keeping them from flying away was the string - taut between my fingers. it was a beautiful day. and i have no words to convey my thankfulness for the people that were there. the calm that was bittersweet. knowing all will be okay, doesn't mean it will be how you expected. and with that, there is always some loss. some emptiness. some sadness. and goodbyes to people and places.

how unfortunate that paths must part.

how unfortunate that some things can only be untangled by distance and silence.

how unfortunate that this is all so indefinite. but final.

listening

i've been listening to this for the past five to six months.

what reassurance. what refreshment.

i love to turn off everything. to feel the quiet on the inside.

and begin to fill it with truth.

daycare kids.

dear children-who-i-will-send-off-to-school-one-day,

psst.

i have my first real job since fall of senior year in high school. and i work with children. daycare kids. you might be one. i was one. waiting for grandma to show up as i make bracelets and play mancala. ahem. beat everyone at mancala.

i've actually had this job for nine months now and i love these children. even when they have attitude and would rather watch Matilda for the hundreth time than make crafts or build towers out of legos. we play freeze tag, four corners. Jenga is a hit. so is soccer, now that it is warmer out. so is painting, but the paint is strong and opening the doors for ventilation is a must. snack time consists of dry cereal, chips, pretzels, or popcorn. we've had smores once or twice. and we did have Little Debbie Oatmeal Creme Pies. your grandfather bought sweets all the time. i ate these growing up. you might have never eaten them. i don't want you to eat ice cream three times out of the week. or have Little Debbie snacks at lunchtime. i want to make you food. or try at least. pack you good things. and always give you extras for after school. well, if you stay after school.

i haven't written to you for a while. life has been like a teetertotter.

one day we will talk about change.

and how this particular time in my life required courage.

i have to be brave.

for myself. for others. and as time will tell, for you.

i have to choose life. a different sort of life than i ever imagined.

and it is scary.

but when you are scared. we can be brave together, yes?

sincerely,

a twenty-one year old almost grown-up

heave lashes and eyeliner

this almost-summer sunday afternoon i am filling my airspace with one of my favorite voices.

adele.

rich and thick. soulful. so full.

her voice is

like a recollection penned in the blackest of inks.

like her heavy lashes and eyeliner.

like smooth calligraphy, delicate art.

above a hush, below a cry.

i love listening to the subtle differences in language, the way vowels are formed, the way consonants are not sounded. i love the way voices travel up and down registers. the breaking point between chest and head. and the way a slight whine in a phrase can pull me into that fullness.

thank you adele for writing music. and for singing it so beautifully. thank you for never performing like britney spears did. your voice can stand on its own. its fullness pouring into empty space: sinking into carpet and dripping down walls.

oh, the truth in this.

the passing

the cloudiness, the deep tumultuous storm must soon pass.
crying is the passing of such sadness.
perhaps only to be followed by a sadness closer to ones core. one so enveloping it halts all thinking, all logic.
i've never known such lasting darkness. such complete aimlessness. such unfeeling. such nonpresence.
it is as if the day has been swallowed and along with it the nerve, the courage, the motivation to do, to be.
hollow, hanging above the brink of ones own life.

and the crying and perhaps the laughter which sometimes follows is a reminder of what the sky might look like if it were not so grey.

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today

today the tomb was still sealed.
today people's voice were hoarse -
their flawed accusations and murderous shouts still ringing.
today the city was filled with reminders of you.
the earth fractured. the temple split.
today people had forgotten your promise.
or doubted its validity.
you had died. were wrapped in linen.
and were carefully laid inside a hollowed rock.

today there was no reason to hope.
the king was not much of a king afterall.
he would not save us as we wished.
his plans were grossly misinformed.
and for this, we crucified him.
spit on him.
mocked his lordship.
and could not bring ourselves to believe him at his word.

today the tomb was still sealed.
and we did not know what to do.

i love

i am aware of my lack of posting.

school is out in two weeks (including finals week).

i will be taking summer classes for the first time ever.

le sigh.

tonight i cleaned my room. kind of. it's getting there at least.

i love folding clothes. sorting papers. and the like.

i really love to organize. does that make me a nerd? maybe.

but nerds are hott.

ew that word....

the last three days have been completely restful.

even in the midst of classes. work. meetings. homework.

the eve before those three days i realized at once how overwhelming life can be.

and i cried.

that is also something i love.

the release. the loss of control.

the ability to see my inability.

the rush of certainty that floods my whole person that says

i need You.

i miss You.

You really are my heart's truest desire.

i know You are near.

but it is so very hard for me to draw near too.

especially when i'm tired.

and these past three days have been marked by Your peace.

thanks.

p.s.

my nephew, who lives in the living room. uses my room to practice guitar, violin, keyboard, etc. and absent-mindedly places them on the floor or on my bed. i have almost broken them several times. but i just can't ban him. i can't, though i've considered. (and possibly threatened?) i love to hear him practice. his thirteen year old self enthralled with music. i don't think it's the sort of passion derived from trying to make something out of himself - liking the appearance of being a musician more than the sound that fills space and lives. i love my family.

my mother

my mother is incredibly strong.

bursting with delight.

there is so much to say isn't there.

but tonight i do not want to find perfectly delicious phrases.

i want to craft. and clean.

and listen.

last week i went on choir tour.

what an experience! faces i may never see again. lives intersected for hours at a time.

today i am sick. i've been sick most of the semester. on and off. how annoying. what a pest sickness is. liquids and rest.

soon i will be done with my junior year in college. sometimes people think i am still in high school. i say it will benefit me when i am sixty and look forty. not that i'll care what i look like at that age. there will be - and currently are - more satisfying things in life than a wrinkle-free face.

soon i will be saying goodbye to people and places.

soon i will not be so busy. thrust into a new season defined by trust. bursting with delight. i already feel it infecting my conversation.

life is so precious.

and to be at home, tonight, is so delightful.

just saying.

i have so much to do. just saying.

monday:

school.

midterm.

conducting test.

work.

tuesday:

school.

midterm.

piano performance.

hillsong.

wednesday:

just a really long day.

really long.

thursday:

also a really long day.

school.

voice recital.

midterm.

work.

babysit.

friday:

school.

voice recital.

college group.

what?

let's just say i might call in tomorrow.

not even kidding.

rupturing

this morning i ran.

well, actually i walked and jogged.

i don't recall it completely. because as much as i tried to keep my mind stayed on one thing. any one thing. i couldn't. i struggle with being present, especially to myself, especially when life is shaky. some things i remember though, like the many greens rupturing from hard concrete and thick bark. the dull aches of tiredness and confusion. a woman in pajama pants riding a bike. heat radiating from my body. hundreds of cars filled with busy people whose faces i did not see but whose cars i heard. breathing in frosty air - icicles melting down my throat.

but i did it.

i may have cut through the grass at one point. tips of my adidas doused in morning dew.

but i said i would and i did.

::dance::

i am going to do this again.

look like

formed from dust.

made for glory.

what does that look like?

it begins.

this morning i could not find my keys.

i always lose my keys.

but it lead to a quiet morning.

i anticipate more quiet mornings.

and more quiet nights.

as i tuck myself into the shadow of Your wings.

passion borne not of human zeal or striving.

obedience fueled by love.

weak yes, after weak yes.

immersion in a river wide and deep.

a vastness i have never known.

this is what i anticipate.

i am not sure where my weak yes' will lead.

but right now it is leading to a realignment.

and a desire to hold still in Your presence and hold fast to Your truth.

assured You are not a Father who is turning me away or rejecting me.

did you know this is what i thought before?

i didn't even know i thought this.

but i did. and sometimes i still do.

You are not denying me.

You do not despise me.

i am broken. i am weak.

i have been pushing away Your love and forgiveness. i have been fighting Your grace and mercy. because i cannot accept something i did not earn. something i am not worthy of. i am a hard worker. and know the grade i deserve. i have been punishing myself, i have been disqualifying myself when You have done everything to open wide Your heart for me.

this is where it begins.

this is when it begins.

anchor

i am breathing in hope.

because it is an anchor for my soul.

most favorite class

it has been almost two weeks since i've been on here. i think about blogging. there are many things to write about and share. but one cannot rush a post. :)

i turned twenty-one on the third.

and came across this quote on meg fee's blog:

she was twenty-one, for God's sake. she must be allowed to grow up. by the time they were her age, most of the heroines of literature had lived, loved and even died...if she wanted to be a heroine, it was time to start behaving like one.
...robyn sisman

i must admit that while growing up provides opportunity to step into myself in greater measure, i find myself resisting. this birthday was different. today is different. friendships are not what they were. and i am resisting the reality of the change that has taken place.

i doubt i was ready for this. and as i sit in my most favorite class, i cannot help but reevaluate my movement towards this change. again. and again. not because it isn't good or beautiful. but because it is different. and requires development. and talking. and crying. lots of crying. and maybe even a complete shift in my involvement with places and people. i have been here, in this place for a while. i am adhering to my own desires, refusing to be moved. i am stubborn. and confused. and scared.

this could be self-sabotage.

and while it all seems very dramatic. (and it may be.)

it is oh so real.

avoiding

i am avoiding writing a reflective book response.

i have been for two hours.

not because i don't like the book. it was challenging. it was illuminating.

i am just not in the mood to write a paper.

thursday is my birthday. my twenty-first birthday.

and i still have school. an exam. and a performance test (piano).

and i still have work. the ones available to cover cannot.

i wish it were warmer outside. and the air were thicker. not so cough-inducing, because i still have a cough. i would sit outside. and maybe i would fall asleep.

how do we process all that we need to when we have papers to write?

time to write.

then sleep.

patient.

He is making me aware of areas i need to work on.

which means, i now have the responsibility to work on these areas.

but i don't want to.

oh well. He's here.

with me. patient.

He won't relent until He has all of me.

He is a jealous God. but He won't push Himself on us either.

so He waits.

as we distract ourselves and are stubborn. and are too broken to let go.

and are too scared to sit still.

i see myself in a field. playing with grass. unable to look into His eyes. fidgeting with plants. tying them together. pulling them out of their earthy homes. digging my fingers into the hill i sit on. but i see Him sitting there. waiting. silent. eyes that burn with love. passionate. they scare me. it scares me to be so loved. to be so unclothed and hideous. and beautiful. but dangerously self-destructive. in small ways. in quiet ways. He is looking on me. not turning His eyes to the left or to the right. He is looking at me. endlessly patient. but grieving my choice to hold on with white knuckles to my ways and thoughts. He waits for me to trust His transformative goodness. but it hurts to be made free. this i am sure of. but His love is sustaining. and healing. and sufficient. He is El-Shaddai. the one who is sufficient for all the needs of His people. and He calls me His. this promise is for me. because He is for me.

but i'm still in that field. not trusting yet. well, not completely.

and my eyes still cannot look at His for long.

so He waits.

and i am grateful.

sampled of summer

today i didn't wear a sweater or a cardigan.

today i wore pants, without leggings underneath.

today i sampled of summer beneath the leaves. and beneath the leaves, their transparent and waxy cuticles gleaming, were branches. strong branches and lovely branches. thick ones and thin ones. supporting the weighty beauty above. extending an infrastructure so intricate and purposeful. and so unseen. unless one lays beneath the leaves. and if i were to follow the black ants down the highways i would find an equally impressive organization of limbs underneath. the wonder we behold daily is bursting with the sacred.

today i am thinking of the anatomy of a tree.

and the importance of branches. roots. trunks.

uncannily similar

i've been sick for a week now. and i've decided, i don't like it one bit.

last time i was this sick, i was in seventh grade. for that i am thankful. that is about eight years of "not-so-bad" health with the random cold here or there.

that was the year i started shaving my legs. they weren't particularly hairy. but when i was younger, my sister (now dear friend) commented that i had werewolf legs. we were in the laundromat because we lived in apartments. and my feet didn't quite touch the groud yet because i was little. my shoe laces were dirty. and my face was pudgy. but i was so cute. chances are she was just becoming aware of her feminine attributes, her being five years older than me, and was making a quick, observational statement. no hurt feelings intended.

but in seventh grade it seemed important to shave my legs. my mother was staunchly against this. so like any pre-pubescent young lady i defied her and proceeded to watch dark sprouts cover my bare, naked legs over the next few days. but all of this is beside the point.

sometime that year we were studying sickness and the bodies response to it. and it was so ironic, studying viruses and bacteria for a week in bed. losing fifteen pounds. hating the way everything tasted. disappointed i wasn't in class taking notes. drinking gatorade.

it is the third week of this semester. and i am recovering. still. i have taken medicine everyday. and accidently took three times too much robitussin once. when you are awfully tired teaspoon and tablespoon look uncannily similar. and my mother drugged me so i could get a good nights sleep! i love her. but, my goodness, she is a criminal now. i've missed two days of school and one day of work. this is all necessary. the rest is necessary if i desire to be better. so i rest in Him. and am made whole by His peace. and am convicted by His love. and am drawn by His unique mercy and grace.

p.s. in seventh grade i got braces. i also got contacts. what a year.

p.s.s. though it wasn't so beautifully crafted, this post serves at an attempt to start blogging regularly again. and an attempt to put off homework for just fifteen more minutes. i am so good.

for days off

thankful for

my twenty (almost twenty one) year old body -

the miracle of ligaments and muscle fibers

and numberless blood cells rushing through veins and arteries.

the earth and seeds that take root,

vegetables and fruits that are harvested

by honest men in the heat of day

for a wage.

a mother who still stresses the importance of a clean room.

for martin luther king jr.

for dreams, big and small,

borne of the tension,

the tight space where truth is spoken about but not yet realized.

for days off when your body is sick.

today is such a beautiful day.

it's january and in the seventies.

only in southern california.

every detail is His joy

oh, to know my shepherds voice.

to know Your gentle leadership.

perfect in all its ways.

He takes the time to lead me. the high and lofty Yahweh guides me.

He never slumbers or sleeps. my failings do not make Him drowsy.

or bored. or fed up.

He watches over me, every detail is His joy.

there is no peace for a heart that is divided.

i choose complete obedience.

Your commandments sustain me.

you see what i don't see.

you know what i don't know.

good good shepherd.

and i will know the quiet waters and rich, green pastures.

and i will know restortation.

and i will be led in paths of righteousness for His names sake.

this is my confidence, this is the truth i feed on:

that You are faithful and good.

so ready

tonight at twelve i will be on my way to redding california. for a conference that i've been wanting to go to for three years now. those leading worship for the conference have accompanied me on my way to school. to work. they have helped me open wide my heart. they have given me words to the emotions that are hopelessly incommunicable. they have shown me what freedom looks like.

i am so ready for this year.

and for every obstacle and opportunity it presents.

it's gonna be so good.

:)

more aware

right now i am focusing on myself.

so dissatisfying.

headache inducing.

i am becoming more aware of my selfishness.

beyond cure.

normally falling asleep is easy. effortless.

the closing of my eyelids is my escape.

where i need not think or process the stuff that i ought to.

it is so difficult sometimes to discern what one is to do.

or to say.

the heart is deceitful above all things.

it is beyond cure. who can understand it?

and i mislead myself. all. the. time.

i have faults that i am not aware of.

my heart hides and disguises destruction so well.

but no one likes to discover their brokenness.

especially if they have convinced themselves that all was right and good.

and whole.

i hate that i cannot understand myself the way others understand themselves.

sometimes i am overwhelmed with pure assurance. sheer security.

but it is a vapor.

and i cry.

but most of the time i stop myself.

but right now i can't.

and it's this hollow unproductive sadness and disappointment.

with no resolution in sight.

it's just that i am so broken.

and don't even know where to start.

i am so glad He came. and i know He is present. and real. and alive.

and abounding in love and mercy.

but i don't even know where to start.

He comes with light.

and i desire an outbreak of this very light in my thinking.

in the movings of my heart.

to expose the things hid. the things quivering with fright.

that they would be made visible. so that my true nature i can see.

and so that this kind Savior, who remembers that i am dust, may quiet my stammering and stuttering anxieties with love. a love that i do not understand and feel unworthy to receive.

but he calls me beloved.

worth love.

i am so glad He came.

even though i am scared. and broken.

i am so glad He came.

because He makes all things new. and whole.

good news. good news.

this is my joy. my song in the night.

i am so glad He came.

dsjfao;wegprgj

my sister and her husband are here.

for ten days.

and i'm going to jesusculture conference in january.

dsjfao;wegjprgj

and today i am going christmas shopping.

it's a tad late but i don't have many people to shop for.

(the adults in my family pick names because there are just too many of us.)

annnddddd i'm feeling rather crafty as of late.

cutting up old books.

::gasp::

*

excitement!

*thank you google images.

ponies

[conditioner del caballo. i.e. horse conditioner]

[safe for human use]

[taken at:

my home with my ever so lovely mac

my church's music/media department's christmas get together]

my sister patty, who currently lives with me - along with her two wonderful children, buys shampoos, conditioners, body washes, lotions, perfumes, body sprays, etc. in excess.

i never understood the need for more than

one shampoo,

one conditioner

and one body wash.

plus it makes navigating in the shower dangerous for the clumsy and cumbersome.

i admit that i am both.

and that i've slipped on a bottle or two.

however,

i do benefit from her splurges.

not only do i not have to worry when one bottle runs out

but i also get to take pictures with them*.

:)

*especially when i have a sweater that happens to match them.

eeks!

i officially finished the fall semester of my junior year this past thursday.

this means time to be creative.

lots of adventures.

christmas get togethers.

family (specifically: my sister and her hubby coming down for a bit).

decorating.

loving on people.

just all around goodness!

cheers to a lovely fall semester.

and my sociology final that ushered in christmas break.

i am so thankful for

time, valuable time.

that escapes me all too quickly.

it is already eight:forty this tuesday night.

and the seconds are dying.

right.

now.

thank you lord for time.

give me grace and wisdom to use it as you desire,

because it's really not mine to begin with.

big sigh

after a beautiful and loud day with family (thanksgiving),

i have spent the majority of the day alone.

working on a resume in photoshop. listening to music. reading. planning.

and it's only seven pm.

i have two weeks of school left - this includes finals week.

then i shall be on break.

::big sigh::

i cannot wait!

retaliating.

my body is retaliating against me.

itchy eyes.

cankersores.

stuffy nose.

hives.

headaches.

:(

p.s. this blog was a hott mess.

i sleep with my head at the foot of the bed. some things are better the opposite way.

i woke up by myself this morning. an hour before my alarm.

rested.

no desire to dig my head underneath my blankets. no resistance to the rising sun.

i woke up cold. like when you press your bare skin against icy glass.

crisp, chilling. cold.

i need to turn on the heater at night. even though turning it on scares me because it drys out my vocal folds. but i'm not a fan of waking up frozen. where to compromise...

my voice is tired. and it may be the changing of seasons. and the allergies. and the post nasal drip. and the general lack of sleep and increase in talking.

fact: i need to drink more water, breathe in steam, &&& sinus rinse the night away.

fact: i need to do a lot more things too, but i'll stick with the small things for now. :)

taking care of oneself is a discipline. you must find yourself worthy of care and time, valuable. you need to step back and recognize the many ways you abuse your mind and body. the way you neglect your soul. and you need to stop beating yourself over the head for taking some alone time*. because self care is not selfish. it's smart. and equips you for all the other things you need to do. and.... you're worth it!

fact: i'm sick of being burnt out. who wants to be burnt out by age twenty? not me. and i'm choosing against this.

*painting. reading. vegging on the couch. praying. hanging out with friends. singing. blogging.

p.s. this blog was a hott mess. forgiveness granted?

tis the season.

everyone* is ignoring their blogs as of late.

and apologizing for doing so to their very dedicated readers.

so for those readers who might still be sticking around or checking this forsaken thought space with a desperate hope that i will write another word.

i apologize.

but i mostly apologize to myself. because writing is [insert beautiful metaphor here that communicates how expressing the deep things i feel by stitching letters together is refreshing and beneficial to my soul].

tis the season for school to pick up its pace and busy schedules.

and so as everyone** checks in with blogdom to inform all, far and near (because we are all nearer than we think), they are still here, i say:

i'm here.

and alive.

and changing.

and experiencing freedom.

which is both painful and rewarding.

* i understand some people will always blog on a consistent basis. and that this is a broad generalization. but sometimes one must cut out things that take up too much time, regardless the pleasure and creativity and wonder these things encourage. too many lists to sort through.

** again with the broad generalizations.

p.s. this post has no picture or video. i know. and i also know this may mean i am a bad blogger. but i already apologized. so we can overlook that, right?

shut up long enough

as of late, in all this busyness, fear has made itself a presence.

a very loud and demanding presence.

and i don't know how to make it shut up long enough for Peace to rush into the lowest parts of me.

quiet my heart with Your love.

call out to the turmoil ''be still.''

make me lie down in green pastures.

above understanding, though i desire it.

above direction and wisdom, though i need it.

i long for You to rush in.

i know You are willing.

so come.

green like limes.

i want to sit outside.

thick mug. floating tea bags.

your face through steam.

cold breath and stars in your eyes.

grassy breeze. green like limes.

springtime at night. winter lingers.

creaking bench beneath the moon.

without pretense. to just be.

every flower

i'm taking time to smell the flowers.

every flower i see.

well, not every flower i see.

but you know what i mean.

and i love her art.

before i was conceived

yes, life is feeling new.

but can i reiterate how newness is so scary.

because it might mean a complete uprooting. and what scares me the most is the possible death of another expectation. a new expectation. because i've been grieving and sifting through the loss of a previous expectation for quite some time now. i can't handle another one. you see, my expectations are linked to huge life things. (though, this might be the crux of the problem. putting things like marriage. ministry. career. all, simultaneously in one single expectation.)

but if i'm not meant to be there with those people. and i'm not to meant to be here with you - you, who have already established exclusively tight knitted relationships with others - then where do i belong? where does my connectedness begin?

and this is why i am so thankful i can put these words in my mouth.

and soon enough in my heart.

" my soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him.

he alone is my rock and my salvation;

he is my fortress, i will never be shaken.

...

find rest, o my soul, in God alone;

my hope comes from him.

he alone is my rock and my salvation;

he is my fortress, i will not be shaken.

my salvation and my honor depend on God;

he is my mighty rock, my refuge.

trust in him at all times, o people;

pour out your hearts to him,

for God is our refuge.

selah

...

one thing God has spoken,

two things have i heard:

that you, o God, are strong,

and that you, o lord, are loving."

psalm 62:1-2, 5-8, 11-12

p.s. i normally hate it when people skip around a passage of scripture, only picking out certain parts that they like. but these are just parts that stuck out to me. and they are true. firm foundations. a refuge built before i was conceived. a refuge waiting for me enter in.

settle in your stomach.

life is new again.

it is like when you drink cold water and you can feel it travel down your esophagus and settle in your stomach.

unbelievably satisfying.

where the horizon should go.

today the sea and sky can't decide where the horizon should go.

they are both sincerely bad with boundaries, a flaw that they both admit is born out of their desire to be closer to the other.

the clouds daring to run its fingers across the icy blue. we call this a thick marine layer. we say that the fog is rolling in. but the sky is just caressing the sea.

and the sea doesn't mind.

the sea billows towards the lofty sun, and crashes loudly. we call these waves. but the sea is in a fit, willing to collapse within itself, willing to forgo the embarrassment to get a little closer then before. and they sky does not laugh or ridicule the seas attempts.

it welcomes them.

mexican part deux

my brother was in town this weekend and filled our fridge and pantry with ingredients that would not normally be there.

arabic bread. (think pita)

feta cheese.

cucumber-corn-tomato-onion-other-tasty-veggie salad.

to name a few...

and in my attempt to stuff said arabic bread, which was falling apart quickly,

i inadvertently turned it into a burrito.

of course, a burrito.

one would expect nothing less of such a refined latina.

i am certain that one day i will find myself doing this very thing in a

restaurant somewhere

suprising someone.

crummy decision

dear vocal folds,

i know you hate me. maybe hate is too strong of a word. but i know you are at least slightly upset and terribly shocked as i put you through five or six hours of singing on sunday. i haven't done that in a long while. it was a crummy decision as far as health goes. but i need you to come back. i'll treat you better. i've let you be mostly silent today. not even expecting a sound. but how i need you!

desperately waiting,

me

when i wake up

sometimes when i wake up,

i throw back my covers to jump into the lap of the Father.

it is oh so safe and wonderful.

and we watch the generous warmth of the sun pour over the city and all who inhabit it.

He tells me these are His children, dearly loved, created in His image.

He wishes they'd jump into His lap some morning.

me too.

chalkdays [pass due]

this is my friend alexis (to the right, to the right).

this summer we went to a park nearby and played with chalk.

there were lots more pictures.

documenting our silliness and our impressive chalk skillz.

(yes, i spelled that with a z. and yes, i am an original gangsta.)

but these will do....

until we strike again.

what what?

vibrant with possibility

today i am

in want of courage.

lots of it.

because desiring an integrated life

[no gaps. no compartmentalization.]

will take that

and much more.

and thankful for

air involuntarily filling and exiting my lungs.

oxygenating my blood.

my muscles.

gas to get to school on a jam packed freeway.

a job with children.

they are vibrant with possibility -

little mozarts

adolescent einsteins

all of them sparkling with destiny.

because we forget that we don't deserve these things.

we aren't entiltled to the luxuries that we've deemed ordinary.

that we expect to be there.

to always be there.

thankyouthankyouthankyou, giver and sustainer of life.

thankfulness the mother of excitement

my freshman year of college i was frightened the most lucid white as i stepped on campus.

i only knew a handful of people. and of those, only knew one really well.

my sophmore year of college i was less frightened.

i still had not made many more friends. i was still a commuter. it was the most challenging year of my life thus far. self-awareness. awareness in general. movement away from things and people that had defined me for far too long.

this is my junior year.

and i am not frightened.

i stepped onto campus for music campus registration.

the sea's breath like a

tornado of

welcoming ribbons

round my body.

overcome with a sense of belonging.

my feet

thick and strong

roots

in the ground

beneath.

and only a handful (or two) of friends.

but i can call them friends.

thankfulness the mother

of excitement.

and i still commute. i will most likely never live on campus. but passing hundreds of cars on the freeway at twenty (or seventy five) miles per hour. filled with people who have big noses and deep set eyes whose lives are intricately complex. is something i love. not to mention the sun hanging brightly in the morning sky between whitest clouds.

a commuter at heart. who prefers a room with one bed. and enjoys the company of none. who is re-energized by solitude. even though it scared her at first. and finds herself drained when spending all day with people. but who is extremely grateful for a shared existence. a community of sinners and saints who are, in their own unique ways - whether they are aware of it or not, reaching for the hem of His garment.

balance, stacey, balance.

a sweet dance. duo.

aloneness.

community.

this year shall be resplendent:

in color

in thought

in movement

[period]

blow my way

i appreciate nights like tonight.

pandora playing.

sweating a little because the AC doesn't blow my way.

when i can use sleeves to my sister's old sweater & some twine to make a headband.

oh, and some thread.

stuff to offer.

as i am typing this post i am listening to:

press play and enjoy.

today is my official last day of summer.

i'm not sure were summer went. or if every moment was spent wisely. and i'm sure wrong choices were made. even if they were just in my mind. or my heart. and nobody really knew about how hard it was and still is to cut ties. but everyone can see that i'm bad at it. even though they don't know it is what i'm up to. but i made good choices. and i'm getting better at it too.

i saw a few movies. started a book club with a few ladies. we are on our second book. the first was alright. i feel like the author was in a rush to finish the book. which made me want to get it over with very quickly. now we are reading "the weight of silence." and it's very satisfying thus far. i didn't go to beach too often. but mostly because summer never really showed up. and the goosebumps never really left. i went out to eat with different people. because they actually had something to say. i started to write more. for my own enjoyment. i drew on sidewalks with a friend. with chalk. and children joined us. i made asparagus and red potatoes and yellow corn. i need to learn how to cook meat. because vegetables are good for ones stomach, but just don't appease my stomach's hunger pangs as does lemon garlic chicken. i basically finished my room. and indulged in creative crafts. i pondered you. and other people. and how life will look soon enough. and how it doesn't really matter how it will look. as long as i'm with jesus. but i still wonder how it will look. because it scares me before i go to sleep. like cobwebs that stick to your hands and hair when you try and comb them away. until i remember that it doesn't matter. it doesn't matter. i started to run. then i stopped. because running is no fun at all. the soreness i don't mind. the early mornings are doable. but i'd rather sit at a park or in a tree. maybe this fall will stitch together, in yellow and orange thread, a love for this healthy pastime. or maybe i'll just start knitting.

and although the interview for this job was a whopping forty minutes long. accompanied with laughter. and well-formulated off-the-top-of-my-head answers. i didn't get the job. i'd be fifteen minutes late for work everyday. i don't understand what the problem would be. :). and even though i need a job, desperately - to fulfill my own desire for more grown-up responsibility. i'm okay with this. the interview went well. and i walked away confident that i have stuff to offer. that i am generous with smiles. that i am somewhat put together. that my words are organized and honest and gentle. and the little girl who tried so hard to achieve and compete for attention and a place can be laid to rest in green pastures. by quiet waters. untouched waters, glass and light and stillness. all goodness buzzing about.

tomorrow i start music camp.

and next wednesday, school.

today is full of hope.

doodads and whatnots: a story of a room in transition

a chair.

twenty five dollars of peach glory.

perfectly soiled.

i keep telling myself i'm going to clean it.

but i don't know how to. heh.

details get me every time.

sometimes accidents are pretty.

right side up.

can't decide if this lamp needs a lampshade.

glass gifts. full of paper scraps. nails. ribbon&loosepearls.

close up.

dad's old water cooler put to good use with some of these.

and did i mention new bedding?

:)

without

while catching up on cold case reruns i made these:

almost one hundred and twenty.

i'll use them for cards and hair pins.

and for decorations.

but i love the way they look on this table.

flowers without stems.

vibrant without water or sunshine.

alive.

real grown up

a while back i turned in applications at various private schools, intending to land a job in the after school/childcare department.

i got a call this morning.

and while it might be a close call in getting to work on time

due to my school hours.

maybe they will make slight adjustments?

this is my first interview in a very long time.

very long time meaning... about three years.

what do i wear?

is there such a thing as being too early?

what do i say?

where's my pocket thesaurus and notepad of clever, endearing phrases?

sooo...

interview: landed.

job: not landed (yet).

eeks. i'm turning into real grown up.