So I plan to update about my trip to Maryland, but first, let's talk about History of Love. I finished it sitting in an airport terminal, a CNN memorial going on for a war journalist killed in Syria going on above my head. SO. MUCH. EMOTION.
I don't really know what words to use on the finishing of that book. Overwhelming, the act of swelling, a desire to love immediately, longing, the power of loneliness, the power of writing, the power of love on the human condition.
It is by far the most beautiful book I've ever read. Nicole Krauss is officially one of my literary heroes with one simple work. To write something a fourth of it's equivalent someday would be success.
It makes me wonder, how many Leo Gursky's are there in the world? And if so, did I pass the chance to love them?
When I think of Jesus alone in the garden, in agony the night before the crucifixion, it breaks my heart. I can't imagine the anguish in that moment; it's more than I can wrap my head around. And to think, so many people suffer such agony, some daily. Alone in apartments, on benches, beneath covers. It's common, so many people diagnosed with depression.
We are shown on television and in theaters scenes of great human suffering, it's what makes a story interesting. Man in pain is something we've become used to in a foreign sense. We see Prozac commercials, watch Matt Damon sob like a baby, etc. At the same time, honest suffering or grieving isn't really allowed among one another. It's reserved for empty apartments, deserted benches, and under covers. It is something that makes us uncomfortable because to witness grieving requires true compassion, selflessness, and closeness. To witness grieving is to be vulnerable oneself. But then you think, if man can suffer agony as Jesus did that night in the garden, and man is made in the image of God, shouldn't that break our hearts? The urge to have consoled Jesus in his torment should be the same for our fellow man. And maybe I'm just rambling, and maybe it's just late and I need sleep, but I hope that the next time I pass Leo Gursky on the street, I am radiant with love.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Digging
In my phone, I found an array of very small, but very lovable things that make me full of joy.
A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, indeed.
It has been such a great day already. I got out of class at 10 am and was done with school for the day, so I trucked William Shatner down to Antique Alley to do some rummaging. After two hours of walking across creaky old floors and smelling of dead people's stuff, I found it. Seeing as this mystery object is surprise for a reader, it won't be revealed :)
Next on the list was mom's birthday present. "You know anything you buy she'll tell you is too expensive, right?" said the tiny old man from behind both counter and spectacles.
"Probably, but she's out of town," I said. He took the last bite of his kidney pie, "well then let's find you something," he said, thrusting himself off his chair with that slow momentum only old people are capable of. Ten minutes later he was checking me out, scanning a middle finger with a missing tip over his books.
"Twenty even," he said. A steal.
Below is a picture I found in an old box full of black and white smiling faces, little babies hanging onto the corners of rocking chairs, and war heroes. For some reason I found it incredible and couldn't leave it behind, plus it was ten cents.
It reminded about "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years," which in all honesty, I should credit as one of my favorite books more often. One of my favorite chapters out of the book is when the author, Donald Miller, attends his middle aged uncle's funeral. He explains that when people say someone died too young, it means you were doing great things with your life. He then says:
"What I love about the true gospel of Jesus, though, is that it offers hope. Paul has hope our souls will be made complete. It will happen in heaven, where there will be a wedding and a feast. I wonder if that’s why so many happy stories end in weddings and feasts. Paul says Jesus is the hope that will not disappoint. I find that comforting. That helps me get through the day, to be honest. It even makes me content somehow. Maybe that’s what Paul meant when he said he’d learned the secret of contentment."
Reflecting on his uncle, he sees him, “sitting at a table and there was a celebration. There was dancing and bottles of wine, and there was music. I could see him at a wedding, and I realized that’s what I should have told Carol, that her dad was at a wedding”
I think that's why I like this picture so much. When you look past marble and inscription, something about it is a celebration.
Next on the list was mom's birthday present. "You know anything you buy she'll tell you is too expensive, right?" said the tiny old man from behind both counter and spectacles.
"Probably, but she's out of town," I said. He took the last bite of his kidney pie, "well then let's find you something," he said, thrusting himself off his chair with that slow momentum only old people are capable of. Ten minutes later he was checking me out, scanning a middle finger with a missing tip over his books.
"Twenty even," he said. A steal.
Below is a picture I found in an old box full of black and white smiling faces, little babies hanging onto the corners of rocking chairs, and war heroes. For some reason I found it incredible and couldn't leave it behind, plus it was ten cents.
It reminded about "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years," which in all honesty, I should credit as one of my favorite books more often. One of my favorite chapters out of the book is when the author, Donald Miller, attends his middle aged uncle's funeral. He explains that when people say someone died too young, it means you were doing great things with your life. He then says:
"What I love about the true gospel of Jesus, though, is that it offers hope. Paul has hope our souls will be made complete. It will happen in heaven, where there will be a wedding and a feast. I wonder if that’s why so many happy stories end in weddings and feasts. Paul says Jesus is the hope that will not disappoint. I find that comforting. That helps me get through the day, to be honest. It even makes me content somehow. Maybe that’s what Paul meant when he said he’d learned the secret of contentment."
Reflecting on his uncle, he sees him, “sitting at a table and there was a celebration. There was dancing and bottles of wine, and there was music. I could see him at a wedding, and I realized that’s what I should have told Carol, that her dad was at a wedding”
I think that's why I like this picture so much. When you look past marble and inscription, something about it is a celebration.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Superman
After struggling between a 2 ounce, 4 dollar power bar and a $5 large pizza, I finally caved and went the healthy (and always pricier) route and went with the power bar. When I opened it and found a strange fuzzy, white mystery substance growing on it, I showed my boss.
"This one's expired," he said, taking it.
The result of my disciplined decision? Bossman gave me and my coworker all the power bars in the store. May I note that most of them were not expired, but he was sick of their not selling. Now I've got boxes waiting to come home with me. Do you know what this means? No grocery shopping, and saving money in the long run. Isn't that ironic?
As Tyler and I dumped all the boxes out onto the counter to divvy out who wanted what, I felt like the annoying kid from Kazaam, (not Shaq, the other annoying kid) in the scene where Shaquille the Genie makes candy, and if I recall correctly, the occasional hamburger, rain down from the sky.
Thus:
Bossman:
=
Magic Shaquile:
"This one's expired," he said, taking it.
The result of my disciplined decision? Bossman gave me and my coworker all the power bars in the store. May I note that most of them were not expired, but he was sick of their not selling. Now I've got boxes waiting to come home with me. Do you know what this means? No grocery shopping, and saving money in the long run. Isn't that ironic?
As Tyler and I dumped all the boxes out onto the counter to divvy out who wanted what, I felt like the annoying kid from Kazaam, (not Shaq, the other annoying kid) in the scene where Shaquille the Genie makes candy, and if I recall correctly, the occasional hamburger, rain down from the sky.
Thus:
Bossman:
=
Magic Shaquile:
Thursday, February 2, 2012
And you can hear them on the hilltop laughing
Your song for today, dear readers. It is oh so pretty.
At first I just wanted to share this song with you, because I thought that not much had happened today and that I would have had little to say.
What an awful mentality. So instead I decided I'd make a list of things that make me happy.
Reader, I woke up today.
That I'll get to go home to a clean apartment, because I was responsible and tidied.
Afternoon coffee.
Pictures, old and new.
Listening to cats through a speaker.
Sparknotes.(thereIsaidit)
Watching someone all the way across campus fall on the ground from laughing.
That moment when you choose kindness over snootiness.
Curls.
Watching Chuck Norris in the afternoons
The anticipation of seeing old friends
That there's only two weeks to go.
Having the kind of friendship that, after a few months of neglectful busyness, picks right back up with a "There are few things a round house kick to the face can't solve," text.
And you, you make me happy reader :)
At first I just wanted to share this song with you, because I thought that not much had happened today and that I would have had little to say.
What an awful mentality. So instead I decided I'd make a list of things that make me happy.
Reader, I woke up today.
That I'll get to go home to a clean apartment, because I was responsible and tidied.
Afternoon coffee.
Pictures, old and new.
Listening to cats through a speaker.
Sparknotes.(thereIsaidit)
Watching someone all the way across campus fall on the ground from laughing.
That moment when you choose kindness over snootiness.
Curls.
Watching Chuck Norris in the afternoons
The anticipation of seeing old friends
That there's only two weeks to go.
Having the kind of friendship that, after a few months of neglectful busyness, picks right back up with a "There are few things a round house kick to the face can't solve," text.
And you, you make me happy reader :)
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Mr. Lessmore, and porridge.
I have been looking for this video everywhere. It is so beautiful, and probably my favorite animated film (even though it's a short.) Made from the director of the movie Robots, he's a Shreveport native, which is why you'll see the Louisiana influence.
Thoughts:
Lately I keep getting pulled back to childhood feelings I haven't thought about in a long time. Yesterday after an incredibly long run, I took the hour before class to have a nap. I reclined my chair, rolled down my windows, and curled up into the fetal position. As I dozed off to the sound of the mac truck working near my car, I was instantly reminded of what it felt like to fall asleep on a school bus after a long day in Kindergarten. Only this time mom wasn't there waking me up, but an alarm clock.
Next was this morning when I had on a sweater and sat down to eat Oatmeal, which of course was piping hot. One bite and I got the feeling of being little before school, having to eat grits or oatmeal in my scratchy polyester sweater, and how my whole body would heat up during breakfast. For some reason I associate middle school mornings with being overly warm.
Thoughts:
Lately I keep getting pulled back to childhood feelings I haven't thought about in a long time. Yesterday after an incredibly long run, I took the hour before class to have a nap. I reclined my chair, rolled down my windows, and curled up into the fetal position. As I dozed off to the sound of the mac truck working near my car, I was instantly reminded of what it felt like to fall asleep on a school bus after a long day in Kindergarten. Only this time mom wasn't there waking me up, but an alarm clock.
Next was this morning when I had on a sweater and sat down to eat Oatmeal, which of course was piping hot. One bite and I got the feeling of being little before school, having to eat grits or oatmeal in my scratchy polyester sweater, and how my whole body would heat up during breakfast. For some reason I associate middle school mornings with being overly warm.
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