undisputed favorite

i lied. call it seasonal memory lapse or a fall infatuation, but the previous mentioned [25 october] tree is not really my favorite. i believe you can have but one favorite it any given category [ie food, movies, cars, friends]. although you are allowed to change favorites over time, the title must only be given to one object at any given moment.
long ago, a gave my favorite tree title away.

we have few traditions in my family. of course there is the special plate we eat from at birthdays and other monumental occasions, popcorn for dinner on sunday nights, and grandma's danish red-button pudding every christmas. but the only custom i religiously enforce is the raising of the christmas tree. the weekend immediately following thanksgiving has been designated for this hallowed event. until then, we do not allow my mom to play her mannheim steamroller's album; one, because no christmas music can be played until the tree is up, and two, because we can only handle it for exactly 4 weeks.

our tree comes from a box. i have yet to have the "pick-out-a-tree and cut-it-down" experience. someday. but for now, the plastic one suits me fine. the lights are my job. i literally spend an hour weaving the strings in and out of the branches, making sure not a single needle is left untouched by the soft glow. the best part comes as we pull out the boxes of ornaments. when my parents were first married, they had one single ornament, bought at the tree store, and left over wine corks from their honeymoon. my mom decided at that moment, each year she would buy her children an ornament of their own, commemorating an event or a special memory from the year. someday, when we had a tree of our own, it would already be half full. concurrently, each year, we give her one back. even when we've each decorated the trees in our own houses, she will still have a tree full of memories.

we spend the next few hours telling our stories and reliving memories remembed in these little, detailed objects. we laugh at the family pictures from over the years and why we girls think eric is the favorite child. megan makes makes us giggle as she jumps around and eric pretends to play christmas music in the bugle that has never ushered a sound. amy gives up as she discovers me rearranging her already placed ornaments, but is satisfied spending the rest of the evening being entertained by megan. the pinnacle of the night occures as the angel is situation at the top. we used to fight over who could put the glowing beauty in it's place. my parent's established the logical birth order sequence, but we only ever remember by looking at pictures from last year. now we fight that it's not our turn...time for grandchildren to take over.

our christmas tree is my favorite not because of its beauty or glow.
it's not anything special to anyone but us, because it is us.
it represents our family.
it is a collection of each one us.

when i was little, i used to lay under it, looking up between the "branches" to the top. i wished i could become like one of the ornaments and climb inside. i would sit inside my baby's first christmas cradle and kick the tiny ball of my soccer ornament. i would play a snow globe man and jump around with one the clothes' pin reindeer. i would sit near the white glow of the lights and watch my family spending time together, enjoying each other, knowing i was completely and entirely loved.

eric has taken his megan back to school and amy is finishing her final project in studio. little megan is studying at her desk and my parent's are asleep in their bed. but tonight, i lay under the tree.
for a moment, time is young again.
there are no deadlines i will face tomorrow,
no dreams to wrestle with tonight.
i am free from pressures to decide what is next in my life.
i carry no burdens from the struggles of others.
i have no worries nor cares.
no tonight, it is just me and my undisputed favorite.
life is simple and innocent.
all the world seems right.
i whisper my first, "merry christmas."

movement seven: good

tonight is one of those lazy kind of saturday nights where you take your shower after dinner and just sit around doing all of those things you never make time to do or nothing at all. i like nights like this, no pressure to be out and about, going or doing.
i enjoy this type of rare, uneventful evening.
time to listen. time to sleep. [or try to sleep] time to be still.

i finished velvet elvis and i must say the last chapter was definitely my favorite. usually, i'm not one to give away endings, but i think this is different. it's gotten me all fired up and i can't fall asleep. i am prompted to share my favorite passages, arranged and rearranged, taken apart and then pieced back together:

[the first church understood that people are rarely persuaded by arguments, but more often by experiences. living. breathing. flesh-and-blood experiences of the resurrection community...now it's our turn. it is our turn to rediscover the beautiful, dangerous, compelling idea that a group of people, surrendered to God and to each other, really can change the world.

the church is at its best when it gives itself away, and this is because blessing is always instrumental. God doesn't choose people just so they'll feel good about themselves or secure in their standing with God or whatever else. God chooses people to be used to bless other people. God has no boundaries. God blesses everybody. people who don't believe in Him, and people who do. people who are opposed to God and people who aren't. even people who do violent, evil things.
God's intentions are to bless everybody.

the church doesn't exist for itself; it exists to serve the world.
it is not ultimately about the church;
it's about all the people God wants to bless through the church.

i am learning how to suffer well. not to avoid it but to feel the full force of it. ultimately my gift to the world around me is hope. not blind hope that pretends everything is fine and refuses to acknowledge how things are. but the kind of hope that comes from staring pain and suffering right in the eyes and refusing to believe that this is all there is.
it is what we all need...
hope that comes not from going around suffering...
but from going through it.

the church is like a double-edged sword.
when it's good, when it's on, when it's right...it's like nothing on earth.
but when it’s bad... all the potential gets turned the other way.

the most powerful things happen when the church surrenders its desires to convert people and convince them to join. it is when the church gives itself away in radical acts of service and compassion, expecting nothing in return, that the way of Jesus is most vividly put on display. to treat people differently based on who believes what is to fail to respect the image of God in everyone. oftentimes the Christian community has sent the message that we love people and build relationships in order to convert them to the Christian faith.
so there is an agenda.
and when there is an agenda, it isn't really love, is it?
it's something else. we have to rediscover love, period.]
velvet elvis. rob bell.

passion 06...any takers?

projects

as much as i complain and remorse over unfinished projects, i thought i should take a moment to commemorate those which have actually seen competition. two occurred this weekend.

i tend to approach a problem with a final image in mind; everything in between will take care of itself, but rarely does it. i think that's the architect in me. i know what i want the end result to look like, but i don't always know how to make it happen. my father [the construction project manager], on the other hand, approaches things completely opposite. the end result, to him, is determined by what it takes to get there and it matters less what it looks like as long as it works. needless to say, working on projects together is interesting. always a lesson in communication.

when i first called him up from the junkyard having found my perfect piece of steel, he laughed, "we throw stuff away like that and here you are picking it out for the head of your bed." he didn't understand yet. i cringed as the man stepped across my naturally rusticated steel, leaving dirty boot marks on its surface. i would have further perpetuated my female stereotype by complaining in this "man's domain" so i just closed my mouth. for two months, the 80lb piece of metal sat in my garage waiting to be realized. my dad wanted to mount plywood at the bottom to reduce the flimsiness as well as rounding off the corners to prevent injuries. i had to explain how that would mess up the purity of the piece and that i would take my chances with the corners...another eye roll and smile. he loves his architect daughter. this plate of steel, probably intended to be rolled into a spanding i-beam, now watches me drift into dreams each night and will probably never be moved from my room.



project #2 was begun and finished in the same week. actually, thanks to computer glitches and my luck, it was begun and finished in 48 hours...complete with a once familiar all-nighter. my family friends who recently returned from india asked me to put together a video for their trip presentation on sunday. especially for occasions and purpose such as this, editing becomes a labor of love and completely fulfilling. one of the photographer’s who went took nearly a hundred pictures of just faces...if i didn't already want to go before, there is definitely no doubt in my mind now. catie even brought me back my first salwars and i have made its saris my new winter scarf.

i reduced the 1gig, 5.5 min presentation down to a small 16mb file, but it still might take a moment to download. be patient.
i hope you find it was worth the wait. [download here]

standing up for nothing. caedmon's call

my itunes tells me i have heard it 5 times already, but it wasn't until today i really listened. you know when you hear a song and for some reason, it just resonates within you i differently than it ever has before? the lyrics hold multiple meanings, strings articularly plucked in the background slowly and beautifully build only to climax and fall. i don't know what it is, but it is noon and now itunes counts it 22 times played.

lyrics sampling...

but everyday when i get up i see folks
trading in their crowns
for all these paper or plastic lives;
an opiate for the masses hounds.
and pride, like a vestige of lives lost.
it's the stench of the old folks coming 'round.

You go; i'll be waiting here.
and i'm awake, i cannot sleep.
so i'll sit upon this rock is You.
i ain't standing up for nothing.

well, i've never seen my congressman,
but i can't deny that he exists.
'cause i've seen his legislation pass;
i've seen his name on the ballot list.
same, i can't deny this fallen world.
though not my home it's where i live.
how can i preserve and light the way
for a world that i can't admit i'm in?
cause i know who i say You are,
but these crows can't be made to stop.
so i'll sit denying by this fire
i ain't standing up for nothing

lack of interest leads to,
lack of knowledge leads to,
lack of perspective leads to,
lack of communication leads to,
lack of understanding leads to,
lack of concern leads to,
this complacency denotes,
this approval denies The Truth.

so You lead; and i'll be close behind.
so You speak and i'll hang on Your words.
you've got to lift me from this hardened tree,'
cause i ain't standing up for nothing.

here i am

winter has come. fall fought long and hard, but tuesday he was defeated. i breathe deep, letting the crisp air season my lungs. as my car warms up, i run back into the house. months i wait, now the day has finally come to wear my favorite
red scarf.

as i sit at my computer, lights low, and manhattan's own 12th street squeeze playing through the speakers, something at the window catches my attention. "not already," i think to myself. i walk over to the balcony. to my suprise, winter had decided to make and even grander entrance. she didn't build up to a climax near christmas time but stepped out from behind the curtain with all the confidence and brillance of the first snow. of course her display was temporary, the ground not quite prepared for her extended stay, and she quickly disappeared back into the wind. but no one could miss her white announcement.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ever wonder what is the face of london, new york, paris?
the face of tomorrow is a concept for a series of photographs that addresses the effects of globalization on identity. the large metropolises of the world are magnets for migrants from all parts of the planet resulting in new mixtures of peoples. what might a typical inhabitant of this new metropolis look like in one or two hundred years if they were to become more integrated? the resulting population is fairly uniform suggesting that if you could combine all the faces in a city right now you would be looking at the future face of that city.
the face of tomorrow attempts to find this face by taking photographs of the current inhabitants and compositing their faces to create a typical face. what we get is a new person - a mix of all the people in that city... a face that doesn't exist right now, but a face, it seems, of someone quite real. check it out!

velvet elvis. rob bell.

i bought this book back in july, but am just now finishing it. i think this is due to my bad habit of starting something but not following through. it's really starting to bother me. so i've tried to buckle down. it's just a lot to handle at once. but whatever you do, you must pick it up.
you must read it. you must process through it. discuss it.
you must question it.

[the idea that some people have faith and others don't is a popular one. but it is not a true one. everybody has faith.
everybody is following somebody.

the real question isn't whether we have it or not, but what we have put it in. everybody follows somebody. all of us make decisions every day about what is important, how to treat people, and what to do with our lives. these decisions come from what we believe about every aspect of our existence. and we got our beliefs from somewhere. we have been formed, every one of us, by this complicated mix of people and places and things. parents and teachers and artists and scientists and mentors- we are each taking all of these influences and living according to which teachings we have made our own. some insist that they aren't influenced by any person or religion, that they think for themselves. and that's an honorable perspective. the problem is they got that perspective from...somebody. they're following somebody even if they insist it is themselves they are following.

everybody is following somebody.
everybody has faith in something and somebody.
we are all believers.

a Christian shouldn't avoid the questions; a Christian should embraces them. in fact, to truly pursue the living God, we have to see the need for questions. questions are not scary.
what is scary is when people don't have any. what is tragic is faith that has no room for them. central to the Christian experiences is the art of questioning God. not belligerent, arrogant questions that have no respect for our Maker. but naked, honest, vulnerable, raw questions, arising out of the awe that comes from engaging the living God.

true mystery, the kind of mystery rooted in the infinite nature of God, gives us answers that actually plunge us into even more...questions.

truth always leads to more...truth. because truth is insight into God and God is infinite and God has no boundaries or edges. so truth always has layers and depth and texture.

whatever the things are that make you feel fully alive and like the universe is ultimately a good place and you are not alone,
i need a faith that doesn't deny these moments but embraces them.
i need a spiritual understanding that celebrates these kinds of transcendent moments instead of avoiding them. these moments can't be tangents. they can't be experiences that distract from "real" faith. these moments can't exist on the edges, because they are a part of our faith. a spirituality that is real will have to make sense of them and show us how they fit. they are expressions of what it means to live in God's world.

if it is true, if it is beautiful, if it is honorable, if it is right, then claim it. because it is from God. and you belong to God.]

and i believe what i believe
is what makes me what i am
i did not make it, no it is making me
it is the very truth of God and
not the invention of any man
rich mullins. creed.

picture addendum

groom & group

my two big brothers; we throw fire, not rice

couples [julie, lee, roy, aaron] roommates and not a couple [dustin & barrett]

the girls [tessa, me & kelly]

weekend reflections

sometimes, i cannot distinguish one weekend from another...they begin to blur in my head. i can describe these weekends as comfortable, productive or uneventful. i don't mind them, in fact, i frequently need these rests. but there are also other kinds of weekends; those i'll remember for years to come. they are marked by an event, a feeling, a moment, a memory. for some reason, they have been given significance, etching themselves into my mind. i don’t know whether it was seeing friends for the first time since graduation, enjoying a marriage celebration, or walking around a piece of capital “A” Architecture on a beautiful fall evening, but this weekend became one to remember.
my cheeks are still sore from smiling.

when you leave high school friends, you promise to keep in touch. you claim you'll always be close; however, time quickly tells otherwise. those friendships were built on activities not depth, on proximity not accountability. though i have only been out for 6 month, i have a feeling my friendships from college will be much different. they were built not just on the convenience of studying together, but on a true need for each other. some of life’s most incredible moments have been made together. finishing 5 years of architecture would not have been fulfilling without these relationships. these ties run deep.

i soaked it up. i asked barrett tell the giant gorilla story, ryan made his infamous scowling face, and i was secretly given the traveling hrad mascot [prague girls, you know what I’m talking about!] we ate, laughed, shared drinks together, picking up right where we left off. when people asked me how i was doing, they genuinely meant it. there was no comparing jobs or projects; no trying to one-up the other. we crowded into loft 150, ignoring the horrible music in the background, and i felt a true sense of thankfulness to be in their company again. even though our time was brief, we didn’t miss the moment.[pictures to follow]

i saw the movie everything is illuminated last night...strongly recommended. it is based on the book by jonathan safran foer, produced by warner independent pictures, directed by liev schrieber, and filmed in the czech republic!

same tree, same place, same moment

it was final project week. i had left at 3am to rest my mind and my body before returning 6am. i liked coming in at this time because all of my classmates were leaving in order to avoid the 7am parking tickets. the lights were off, the room was still, i was in flow. instant messenger was my tunnel to the outside world during final projects; the only way i interacted with people outside of seaton. however, this may morning, it became my poison, as it carried to me the one thing that had the capability to bring down an entire semester's worth of work: a virus. it slipped in without warning and with no invitation, destroying my machine. i was left helpless. reformat was my command; i cringed at the sound of that word. i had no time for this. reformatting my entire computer was not built into my project schedule, it wasn't part of my contingency plan. argh.

i had to get out of studio, free from seaton, away from campus, far from the city. manhattan's a small town [known as the little apple] tucked away in the flint hills of kansas. tuttle creek, underutilized by many of its citizens and actually more like a small lake, is my escape. i love this place. i have camped between its trees, studied on its shores, and skinny-dipped in its waters. i have watched shooting stars on the roof of its shelters, rode my bike over its hills, worshiped under its heavens. today, i just drove on its roads. i had to clear my head of floor plans and circulation diagrams. i had to forget about the daunting task that lay ahead of me. my windows were down and my music was up; i let it all go. a lone tree standing in the middle of an amber field stopped me mid thought. it seemed to be asking me to take its picture. i stopped my car, grabbed my ever present canon and began to shoot. as i walked around the tree i was baffled. the pictures i was taking from the back of the tree looked nothing like the image that first caught my attention. it was the same tree, same place, same moment, yet from each side, i saw an entirely different picture.

i could come up with some kind of metaphor [or simile, or analogy...i get them all mixed up] to give reason to this image. but really, i have none. every photo has its own story, a context, a reason. and i guess more than anything, i just wanted to tell this picture's story.

[oh, and thank goodness for partitioned drives...]