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.

only way to go there

"you have an idea of what the new country looks like. still, you are very much at home, although not truly at peace, in the old country. you know the ways of the old country, its joys and pains, its happy and sad moments. you have spent most of your days there. even though you know that you have not found there what your heart most desires, you remain quite attatched to it. it has become part of your very bones.

now you have come to realize that you must leave it and enter the new country, where your Beloved dwells. you know that what helped and guided you in the old country no longer works, but what else do you go by? you are being asked to trust that you will find what you need in the new country. that requires the death of what has become so precious to you: influence, success, yes, even affection and praise.

trust is so hard, since you have nothing to fall back on. still, trust is what is essential. the new country is where you are called to go, and the only way to go there is naked and vulnerable.

it seems that you keep crossing and recrossing the border. for a while you experience a real joy in the new country. but then you feel afraid and start longing again for all you left behind, so you go back to the old country. to your dismay, you discover that the old country has lost its charm. risk a few more steps into the new country, trusting that each time you enter it, you will feel more comfortable and be able to stay longer."

henri j.m. nouwen

mexican

yesterday i was driving to book club* and my windows were distractingly dirty. as i pulled onto the street i realized that an accident would soon take place if i did not clean them. on go my windsheild wipers. the water and soap mixture sprays out.... on the passengers side. the squirter that covers my field of vision was evidently clogged. needless to say jenny could see the road oh so clearly. i, on the other hand, squinted for twenty five minutes through thick streaks and a strong glare.

book club lasted an hour and a half.

we are about to finish:

the particular sadness of lemon cake by aimee bender

before we drove home, i realized that my eyes would have to battle the red glare from brakelights as the sun had rest it's head below the horizon. so i proceeded to take my almost finished water bottle and pour its remaining contents on my side of the windshield. hurried in the car and turned on the windshield wipers. for some reason, this made me feel extremely mexican. it's something my mother would have done. except she would have wiped it down with a napkin or a tissue.

i love her.

and i love that i've inherited her mexican tendencies.

now i just need to master her enchiladas

tamales

and other finger-licking good dishes.

*i haven't mentioned this yet. tomorrow, i promise.

more often.

today i wore no makeup*.

and did not feel an iota less than beautiful for one single moment.

i think i will do this more often.

because i am beautiful.

with no need for enhancement via CoverGirl or MAC.

*this excludes everything EXCEPT chapstick and a quick curl of the eyelashes since mine are pin straight.

the debris.

the past hour i saw the deterioration of a relationship between my mother and my sister.

i saw the past repeat itself.

angry words like bulldozers in shoddy buildings.

ground zero in my living room.

the debris is suffocating.

and i saw children who were afraid.

and i saw a mother who was afraid.

and i, too, felt afraid.

i'll embrace the flame

He dares to be more intimate with myself than I do. searching out the lowest parts. desiring truth in the innermost parts. familiar with all my faults and failings. He is giving me what i have asked for. cried for. to know Him. to be like Him. to dwell with Him in the beauty of His holiness. to be holy as He is holy. to talk with Him face to face like a friend.

He longs to lead me in paths of righteousness for His names sake. and all idols must be destroyed, must be cast into His loving gentle hands. and His fiery gaze that promises sustenance will have to be enough. i won't be afraid, i'll embrace the flame. though it may sting. and reduce. it is refining. gold will not be the name of a precious element, but a description of the state of my heart. pure. without extraneous matter. dross burned up with fire. fear burned up with love.

intimacy requires sacrifice.

to cultivate relationship with the Holy One of Israel i must desert the time and affections i give so easily and blindly to others.

and more than sacrifice, obedience.

if you love me, you will obey my commands.

john 14:15

not despising His instruction or authority.

not disregarding His statutes. but delighting in His life-giving, life-sustaining word. assured that correction and discipline are an overflow of the Father's love. convinced that the law of His love is grace and mercy and justice.

His courts are lovely. His dwelling place is majestic.

my home, the secret place, the altar of sacrifice.

obedience sweetened by love for the Beautiful One.

feverish

the stones leading to my front door aren't round.

they are slabs of speckled concrete. square. plain. light grey.

they aren't dainty. or whimsical.

not like the stones that lead to secret gardens or hideaways where rebellious sophisticates rendezvous.

they are upfront and don't lie about how hard they are. or how people who drag their feet end up with stubbed toes.

but their hardness has welcomed me since the third grade.

this morning i saw a lizard with cracked skin scrambling across the third stone.

spry with anxiety. feverish. urgent.

and around it's back was an interminable string - thin, sheer, taut- attatched to the sun.

summer riding high like a kite.

the prison between the binding

reading time was his least favorite time of day. the teacher's pencil skirt zipped so tight, seemed to be like mummys wrappings, well-fitted grave clothes.

shhh. no talking.

the words did not make sense unless they were spoken. they longed to be spoken.

but for forty minutes each school day, he flipped the pages without understanding.

the ships would not leave the dock.

the adventurers added locks to their doors.

bluejays sang and nobody heard them.

children were ignored like shriveled prunes that nobody likes.

forty minutes of pretending.

then on to history - when the sea tasted like salty tea.

compliments of incensed colonists.

but his voice was like magic and justice. it liberated words, black with languish. and ships. and adventurers. it gave bluejays and children the freedom that only an attentive listener could. an earthquake of sound emancipated the captives in the prison between the binding.

their life was on his lips:

endless oceans and mountain ranges and skies and jungle gyms.

snowflakes in july

last night i was bored...

and i found construction paper.

so i began to cut.

ready to pull open....

peek.a.boo!

and made five more.

everyone knows that snowflakes in july are the perfect cure for boredom.

i don't know what to do with them yet.

so they are going in a crate with all of my crafts who have

no permanent home.

left to wait until i determine a place that is worthy of their stay.

, of course.

the past month or so has included weddings and graduations.

here are some pictures and captions.

and introductions, of course.

this is my nephew. to the right is him at the beginning of sixth grade.

to the left is him now - an almost junior higher. (eeks!)

this is my mom. and she's my favorite. strong and equally silly.

this is brother number two (aka bert) and his son. and his girlfriend jen.

my nephew was so excited that day. ;)

nathan making rocks talk. pssst. it only works if you close your eyes.

mikey is a bonafide rockstar. just saying.

the cousins. primary colors are my favorite in theory,

because i would never have the audacity to decorate with such vibrancy.

evidently gracie and i are in agreement about primary colors.

brother and me. oldest and youngest. fifteen years difference ain't no thang.

and this is my familia. from left to right: jon and gracie, my dearest sister and brother-in-law who just moved; my mom and dad, i used to wear those shades when i was little - ray bands never get old; brother number one (aka adi), he's pretty sweet; my cousin the bride and her new hub!; bert, also pretty sweet; me; my niece, she's only sixteen and wearing heels for the first time, my heels to be specific, i refuse to let her grow up anymore; my sister patty, never without rocking heels and red lipstick, and my brother's girlfriend jen.

no little ones in this one - they are running around on the golfcourse.

patty is so slick. did i not say mikey was a rockstar?

oh, there are the little ones.

that's it folks.

thanks for bearing with me.

and for putting up with sideways pictures.

happy monday!

dream light

today i am thankful for

waking up to wistful whistling of birds

rather than the steely jackhammering of construction workers.

the translucence of my curtains

and the dream light that escapes through them.

the satisfactory state between sleep and awake,

it's like a perfectly warm bath.

icy smoothies with pinapples from the philippines,

pomegranates from the middle east,

and strawberries from the central coast of the

red, white, and blue.

the bigness of the universe

and the tinyness of me.

the noon sun has yet to rise.

so many more things to be thankful for, to be thankful in.

fruit with my fruit

last week i ran three times.

(success!)

my mom proceeded to purchase mcdonalds for dinner.
my dinner the next night? del taco.
and although i attempted to start and end the day with eating fruit it kind of went downhill from there.
at night my strawberries were accompanied with about 800 calories of nutella.

(200 calories per tbsp, really?)

but it's so misty outside this morning. (seriously July, is this all you have to offer me? you are acting awfully like November as of late. it's not that i don't like November, it's just that she's so cold and bitter sometimes. please don't forsake your goodnatured smile and trade it in for cloudy thinking and the thick fog of uncertainty.) and they are doing major construction on my street. i woke up at eight. promise! so instead of running i stretched and did some crunches. even though stretching felt so great i could have ended there.

i love fruit smoothies. not shakes because the dairy just feels so heavy in my stomach. so this morning i took strawberries, oranges, a small piece of grapefruit and blended it. and what did i have with my fruit smoothie? a banana of course!

what's better than starting off the morning having fruit with my fruit?

and does anybody remember this hey arnold episode?

i miss well formulated cartoons. nickelodeon hit it's peak in the early 1990's, obviously.

not being around

my sister gracie and her husband are moving away tomorrow.

nine hours north.

my highschool graduation.

two years ago.

this past christmas.

we love to be silly.

today is their "sending away" party and we stayed up late last night decorating and woke up early this morning to finish up. an hour from now family and friends will be pulling up. and laughter will echo throughout the hallways. there will be tears no doubt.

but new beginnings are always so fun.

i love them so.

[pictures will be up soon.

and i mean a lot.]

i can't imagine my sister not being around.

but today she is here.

insecurities

sometimes my insecurities keep me from making friends.

true story.

hopscotch

afternoons in the park with my two nephews:

exquisite.

chalk.

jungle gym.

woodchips.

shade for days.

faulty kite.

making friends with other seven year olds.

hopscotch.

the "invisible wind shaking the palm trees."

swings.

pretend treasure hunts.

(raging rivers and scary snakes included).

my oldest* nephew, mikey, and i resolved to write music on the sidewalks of the park next week with chalk. what a wonderful idea! prepare yourself to be blown away because it shall be documented.

*oldest meaning twelve. eight years younger, but just like a brother.

did i mention he just finished elementary school?

ay yi yi. (mexican roots) i can't imagine this little one in middle school.