10x1000=2008

[explicit]

for reasons that aren't entirely clear to me yet, my dad really wants an organized catalogue of all the movies they own. being the dutiful daughter he's always dreamed of, i've recently spent a whooole lot of time working on that. data-entry can be mindnumbing, but my boundless love for lists and categories has trumped all that.

on the other hand, definitions have been nagging at me. see, if the point is to make movie retrieval more straightforward, the system (i.e. um, me) needs to make good guesses about genre. but genres aren't always intuitive... and certainly they're not objective. case in point: the american president - drama or comedy? (it turns out aaron sorkin himself doesn't think in those categories.) what makes a movie "romantic?" what qualifies as "action?"

oh, and what is a mystery?

apostoholic

i've been thinking a lot about traditions lately. my dad eschews them on principle while my mom is more ambivalent. regardless, we have family traditions, most of them unspoken (like so many other aspects of our clan). tonight, we're sharing christmas dinner, replete with such classic family motifs as:

- my dad and i trying to make my mom laugh and forget the stress (these attempts tend to make things worse but they're about all we have in our arsenal :S)
- senseless discussions about wardrobe and hairstyle
- dad remembering to play chauffeur but forgetting to offer people drinks
- reminding myself not to say, "i'm ok" when manu (my dad's oldest friend's dad) asks me how i am, lest he should muse, "oh, just ok?"
- james consistently impressing me with how well he fits into the family
- wicked appetizer menu (i'm in charge this year!)
- sarmale cu mamaliga!!! (cabbage rolls with corn "mush")
- discussions about philosophy, religion, books, family news, and politics, conducted in at least two languages, sometimes simultaneously (poor james!)
- demonstrations that manu knows everything
- james and i fighting over the orange juice
- thoughtful gifts
- missing ioana and dov

in the old days, cori and i (and, eventually, james) did all the cleaning while mom and dad drove manu home... this year everyone but mom is packing into the car for a ride downtown.

yet another case of everything/nothing has changed. :)

timeless

watching my parents age terrifies me.

tell me a story...

i love to hear. to close my eyes and imagine the people and crises and triumphs you describe. they needn't be new stories. i dream that reading won't always be a solitary enterprise. maybe that's why i so long to one day have children: they will make a storyteller of me. it's been a long time now since i realized that i could never marry a man who wouldn't read to me at night... or whisper bedtime stories in my ear in the dark stillness.

perhaps that is why the reader has completely overwhelmed me. surely it is not the only reason... but i feel i'm almost drowning in it all.

standing at a distance, from my comfortable seat, my heart shouted it out, plead with him: "you know what you must do! you know what is at stake! put yourself aside!"

but knowing right from wrong is rarely the difficulty: ethics can never grip us, mobilize us, paralyze us, so much as our fears and hurts do.

there is a moment in this movie when one touch, one smile, one infinitesimal drop of kindness might have made a tremendous difference. but it was withheld. because it was impossible. sometimes we find ourselves at the end of our compassion and love. there is only so far any one of us can go, and we are, perhaps, surprised to discover we are at that border. crossing over would be right - so virtuous, so noble, so good - but it is not within our strength. we are at the end of ourselves.

there is pain that goodwill cannot erase. our best hope is to love as fiercely and give as freely as we can - as we can - and learn to forgive ourselves for the rest.

together

"... most mathematicians don't like to be lonely, and they have trouble staying excited about a subject, even if they are personally making progress, unless they have colleagues who share their excitement."

~william p. thurston

play it again...

a friend of a friend challenged his blog's audience to consider what their most frequently listened to songs reveal.

#1 - "another kind of green" by john mayer trio
this is a distillation of exactly what i would want to hear from the man i'm with. even the blackjack allusion is perfect.


#2 - "speed of trees" by ellis paul
i hold this song in tension with the freedom and taste for adventure that love inspire in me... i don't think we have to decide. but "i've grown a head full of make believe" is still a beautiful line.



#3 - "the world ain't slowing down" by ellis paul
like a sad smile, paul's poetry makes me feel that i am not alone in the craziness... it even helps me laugh along.


#4 - "ordinary day" by great big sea
also my ring tone, it's an energizing reminder that it's all going to be ok and there's so much to be grateful for!


#5 - "you can't always get what you want" by band from tv
hugh laurie singing greg house's theme song and mine...

wish list!

updated!

hmmmm

i dreamt it last night. that thing that will never ever happen in real life.
you made a decision, and it was the right one. then we both made life decisions that made it even more right.
we wouldn't have been happy.
sometimes i think that, at least, we would have been less lonely. but is there anything lonelier than being with someone who can't understand you?

it's strange to know it'll never happen. not sad. just... very strange. because, you see, never seems like an awfully long time.

i wish you love.

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

seriously. wow.

p.s. two choice quotes from that blog:
"i was 32 when i started cooking; up until then, i just ate."
~ miss julia child

"you never forget a beautiful thing that you have made. even after you eat it, it stays with you - always."
~ julia's instructor, chef bugnard

wish list (under construction)

with 33 days left until i go back to school, i'm composing a holiday wish list... any recommendations?

- prepare a turkey dinner (and find people to feed it to... volunteers?)
- spend an evening playing hoopla, drinking egg nog, and listening to carols. while wearing sweaters. it's a tommy hilfiger ad! [(c) aaron sorkin]
- invest some time in the archives at uoft/york/conrad grebel
- look for a job
- make a snow fort
- work on scrapbooks with mike and kevin
- set up the tree with mom and dad
- read "alias grace"
- see "rachel getting married" and all the other movies i've been missing out on because i live in hamilton
- eat sushi at least once a week (x5)
- draught-proof my apartment
- pad my agatha christie collection
- read two of the textbooks for my "women in xn history" class
- knit or crochet something. (seriously, it just feels wrong not to.)
- finally check out all the music paul has ever recommended to me

secret irony

last sunday's postsecret batch included a picture that has circulated online for some time. it was a photoshopped depiction of what a particularly disgusting ailment might look like and was viscerally, knee-jerk yucky. the secret was something like, "even though i know this isn't real, it still haunts me."

i mentioned some of my reaction here, but i wanted to add this: most of the online debate (at least 120 pages' worth as of tuesday) revolved around a) whether the picture was offensive and b) whether removing it constituted censorship. let's deal with those, for just a minute.

a) corina is very much affected by pictures of dry, cracked soil, maps that emphasize topography, and that scene in splash when daryl hannah's legs turn back into her mer-tail. she just is. i don't have to understand why something upsets her, or be upset by it myself, in order to care enough to protect her from it. so, i warn her when especially gross scenes are coming up on episodes of house. the ridiculous online argument about whether this picture was offensive is a waste of time. people are not offended by the secret or plotting to track down whoever sent it in... they're just viscerally upset by the image. given that little good can come from the picture's presence (see my previous post), why continue upsetting them? to what end?

b) ok, but would removing it be "wrong"? no. frank, the aptly-named founder and moderator of postsecret, picks and chooses what he puts online. from the hundreds of postcards he receives each week, one or two dozen make it to the blog. more make it into his books, but the process nevertheless involves selectivity, the criteria for which are entirely frank's prerogative. hence, the censorship issue is moot.

(actually, this whole debate is moot, because the secrets are new this week, as always. regardless...)

one final note: some people expressed concern that whoever sent the postcard would be hurt by having it removed. i somehow doubt that. part of the goal of the project is to remind us how connected we are. how, even in our darkest secrets, we are not alone. like countless others, this secret resonated with many of us. ironically, by removing the secret, we would have been standing in solidarity with the secret-sharer. we would have been saying, "hey, it haunts us, too. let's stop looking."

can you hear...

safe

when i was about nine i had a pretty bad nightmare. i got kicked out of swimming class for talking too much, so i went back to the changeroom... only there was a man there and he locked the door. he didn't touch me - the dream didn't get that far - but the terror was still overwhelming. and when i screamed it just bounced off the walls and no one in the swimming pool could hear me or help me.

eighteen years later, i still remember his slight but powerful silhouette, the sound this piece of metal made when he scraped it across the floor and then rammed it under the door, the way the blue tiles looked as my voice visibly and helplessly ricocheted.

and i remember that when i woke up, it was the middle of the night and i was so very upset. so scared. and you let me crawl into bed with you.

i love you so much.

disturbia

i came across a deeply upsetting image. there was a warning ahead of time but - let's be honest - that just made me curious. the thing is, this image is very knee-jerk disgusting. even though you can rationalize it away, it's still deeply disturbing. and it's stuck in my head. and no, i'm not linking it, 'cause i care about you too much.

countless others expressed dismay and anger about the posting, some vowing never to return to the site, but one reader observed that the website routinely and unapologetically raises issues that should upset us: abuse, addiction, self-destruction... why were many of us so adamant that *this* image be removed, but so indifferent about the other, much more immediate and urgent, concerns?

here's the thing: there is nothing noble about offending people for the sake of offending them. socrates wasn't a gadfly 'cause he got kicks out of it, though that may have been a pleasant side-effect. there is power in evoking sudden emotion because it can shock people out of complacency: i can be moved to intervene on behalf of battered women, or to talk more about the dangers of driving under the influence, or to seek out more ways to show love to those around me who hurt. but there is no "end" to this image. it's just disturbing. it's like sharing a nightmare with someone only to get it off your chest... except the listener inherits it. and that borders on abuse.

can't touch this

nothing insightful to read here! almost everything below is fairly obvious.

so, clearly, there are awful hugs and awful kisses and there are wonderful hugs and wonderful kisses. the difference between the yum and yuk isn't always straightforward, though... aside from cracking ribs and epileptic tongues - those are unambiguously bad signs.

earth-shattering proposition: the "who" matters infinitely more than the "what" because context really is key. and that goes for friendship as well as morethanfriendship.

i was reflecting on my affection history and expected it to be confusing, but the over-riding theme is a huge disconnect between mutual touchyness and mutual emotional engagement. (and that has cut both ways: sometimes way too much touching and sometimes surprisingly little.)

it's also appears that i think hugs end fights. that is, i think they're legitimate stand-ins for apologizing/extending forgiveness/promising never to criticize the way you do dishes again/what have you. oh, and i am really, really wrong about that.

but - k, don't laugh! - part of me really believes that words are easier to misinterpret or overanalyze. meanwhile, it's hard to parse a hug: it just means good things. yeah, i'm naive.

a more-than-a-friend-with-enormous-complications once predicted that i'd get married for the conversation.
a) this is a load of crap and always has been.
b) i posited a while ago that maybe the point of life is to notice the implicit false dichotomies all around us and intentionally reject them. i guess what i'm saying is... surely we don't have to settle for either words OR actions. we can have a healthy dose of each.

strumming

"rhapsody in blue" is lovely all the way through, and it seems to end just when it should. how do artists know when the painting or song or poem is finished, anyway? i'm really asking.

i listened to my favourite piece today... and thought, again, about how school should start in spring. and we should defend our theses in fall, with the harvest. and then we'd beat pathetic fallacy because the long hard hours of slaving away would be brightened by sunshine and winter would be warmed by breaks from school.

i have pedagogy and epistemology on my mind today. and i'm thinking about interconnectedness and holistic analysis.

i'm excited about mining archives and worried about paying for these research trips (even though they're local-ish).

i'm wondering if culture really does have intrinsic value or if we're just defensive.

i'm hoping they turn the heat on soon, too. i imagine that might be cozier.

i'm remembering that "lovers in a dangerous time" is still an incredible poem. and so is "hallelujah." and so is "stopping in the woods on a snowy evening."

and i have miles to go before i sleep.

dare to share

it's hard to forget the sheer terror i felt during one break-up, as i wondered if i was ever going to get my favourite book back. maybe that sounds cold... but the way i see it, losing a friend/significant other is bad enough. losing cherished belongings, on top of all that? pretty brutal.

i tend to track the geography of friendships: where we enjoyed meals, where we walked, where we listened to that band, where we spoke difficult truths, where we bought that gift, where we chatted in your car for hours, where i cried, where you told me that secret, where we sat in angry silence.

in the wake of broken friendships, i take stock of things a little bit, and, inevitably, i wonder if i shared too much. not just too many significant places, but personal treasures, too: recipes and books and ambitions and inside jokes and fears and stories and friends. they're not just mine anymore.

but, listen: the truth is that there's just no way to begin to understand me if you don't read a particular children's book. you have to read it yourself because i can't tell you what it means about me. i just know it's central. when is the time to mention that? (i've learned it's rarely the time to lend out the copy i've had since i was six. see above.)

see, it's not always insecurity that makes self-revelation so damn hard: some things really are diminished when revealed too often, and friendships really are diminished in the absence of genuine intimacy. so, it's not just hard. it's complicated.

i once asked a friend if there was anything i could do for him. he said, "just be yourself." the question is, how much?

"in case anyone wants to know...

the stars are white, the sky is black, and the moon isn't out..."
[cue quiet scramble]

i don't even remember who said it, you know?

but i remember lying on that wooden dock, the sound of the lake sneaking up between the cracks, with (what seemed like) the entire starry universe spread above. and i remember being ready to drop whatever i was doing to get back there.

greg house says...

"if the wonder is gone when the truth is known, there never was any wonder."
(4x8 - "you don't want to know")

an elegant little proof

the best things happen while you're dancing:
things that you would not do at home come naturally on the floor.
for dancing soon becomes romancing,
when you hold a girl in your arms that you've never held before.

even guys with two left feet
come out alright if the girl is sweet -
if by chance their cheeks should meet
while dancing.

proving that the best things happen while you dance...

q.e.d.

(danny kaye, "white christmas")

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fZXYYfHICSc

"could you be just a little more jewish?"

that's how danny phrased it when he asked matt to live in the moment (studio 60 on the sunset strip). maybe i'm getting back to my ashkenazi roots.

standing on my tippy-toes in georgian bay, i propped nancy up. her shoulders leaned against mine as her legs floated toward the horizon. only the occasional wave interrupted her laughter. the gurgling was just as sweet, though.


it was the most fun i'd ever had with her. actually, it ranks pretty high on my list of recent joyful moments. and that's at least partly because i didn't extrapolate.

back when i was at camp, i'd enjoy every little bit of being around kids: the creativity it demanded, the humour, the spontaneity, the license to act silly. but a part of me always leaned forward. it sighed and said, "i can't wait 'til i can do this with my own kids."

in the water with nancy, i knew there were parallels to parenting. but, to be honest, i was too busy loving that moment to think past it. being right there was just so very good.

tonight i'm remembering other instances of being present: the last year has brought suds fights with alice, chats with kevin, pat's cat imitation, my first time helping doris and rosie, touching foreheads with mr. goto, breaking bad news to sandi, building furniture with mike. countless hugs and laughs that all meld together now but at the time were each worlds in themselves.

it's not that l'arche is magical, you know. i'm finding it easier to just be in other areas of my life, too. to open my eyes and heart and just let life show me. to experience meaning instead of trying to manufacture it.

to let my legs float toward the horizon as i lean back, trusting that i won't sink.

"a single moment in time can be a universe in itself, full of powerful forces. most people aren't aware enough of the now to even notice."
(st:insurrection)

"wish you were here"

i once heard an uber-cheesy song about how this guy can't seem to enjoy a sunset or a groovy song or life itself, 'cause he has no one to share it with. and the point of the song, i think, is he's apologizing to beauty and goodness for his stubborn refusal to appreciate them on their own merits. it's one of those, "damn, i've been letting my whiny singleness poison my life, and i should maybe stop that" type ditties. it's a surprisingly sparsely-populated genre.

so, a lot of times, amazing experiences in life make me wish someone was there. sometimes a genericsomeone, sometimes a genericspecialsomeone, but most often specificsomeones. liiiike, "wow, corina would just love this..." or "if mon were here she'd be laughing her ass off!" or "what would ross think of this, i wonder?".... or what have you. i think that's cool, to a point. i like that my travels don't divorce me from the people i care about. they're a part of my world where'er i may go.

in "shall we dance?", susan saradon says that people get married because they want a witness to their lives. i think that goes for tight friendships, too. and i think it's beautiful, really... as long as secret moments endure. i think they can, you know? i have great hope. because i keep experiencing things i want to treasure in my heart and not wear on my sleeve. things i couldn't talk about even if i wanted to. things that wink at me as they defy my camera lens. flashes of light and glimpses of grace. goodness and beauty that demand to be appreciated on their own merits. they are not empoverished by your absence... not the way i used to think, anyway.

so, you witnesses of my existence, know that your role has changed. you are vital to me, not because you lend legitimacy to this little life of mine, but because you bring new light in. because you are good and beautiful, and your presence is a joy to me.

*that's* why i wish you were here.

no play-by-play

but here are some highlights from my recent trip to italy and romania:
- spent three five-hour chunks walking around rome
- lived with a l'arche community in nearby ciampino: ate, danced, and played
- sampled good eats (see this album)
- finished reading "how proust can change your life"
- pondered religious art, tourism, beauty, and democracy
- thought a lot about expectations and disappointment, particularly with reference to caravaggio
- stood in the same room as a two works by caravaggio and didn't pass out
- reignited friendships with jann arden, miranda stone, and great big sea... all canadian artists!
- was so very grateful i'd taken french in school
- discussed mysticism on the spanish steps (and made a guy nearly swoon by vaguely knowing who urs von balthazar is... thanks, steve!)
- tried buffallo mozzarella which - it had never occurred to me before! - comes from buffallo milk
- benefitted from the kindness of strangers on countless occasions
- discovered just how lacy the italian coast is - it's a mess of curves!
- got sunburned
- got caked with sea salt, straight out of the sea
- pilgrimaged back to bucharest
- reunited with old friends
- danced with dad... and contemplated dance lessons
- laughed so, so, so much
- renewed my appreciation for a room with four walls and a door!
- started reading just war theory stuff
- travelled by plane, train, metro, busses of different lengths and heights, cars and vans, motor boat, skybridge, funicular, teleferique, airport shuttle, teeny elevator, and foot... sadly, no scooters this time
- can't wait to go back

see also this, this, this, and that.

travelling tips:
- have a plan
- be ready to abandon it
- consider wearing a wedding ring
- don't try too hard to understand popular tourism... it makes no sense.
- cobblestone is slippery when wet
- talk to strangers
- watch out for little dogs or you might kick them by mistake
- don't let cab drivers treat you like crap
- take the time to sit and listen
- sunrise/sunset are wonderful times of day. make a point of noticing.
- having a dog escort home at midnight is more amusing than confidence-inspiring, but it's still way better than nothing
- know enough of the language to be able to tell people you can't speak it
- spend more time experiencing than you do recording experiences

a truth stumbled on

beauty is found when the good is neither elusive not illusory.
few moments meet both conditions.
but they are worth waiting for.

so further

it's my night on the monitor again, and every time i turned over to look, nancy's blanket had slipped a little more. i was just hoping it'd last 'til 6am this time.

at 2:30 it was almost off.

at 4:40, i heard her rolling around. i glanced at the screen and saw her stand up and begin to fix her blanket. once, twice, thrice, she held an edge in her hands, lifted it, and let the thin material fall on the bed. finally satisfied that it was smooth enough, she gingerly pulled back a corner, sat down, and tucked her legs under. she hesitated for a moment, then pulled the blanket up to cover most of herself. her breathing grew deep and regular, and she fell asleep.

sweetheart, you didn't save me any sleep... but that's hardly the point. you made my day before 5am. i love you so much.

so far

i've been up for seven hours. yikes. accomplished thusfar:
- brokered a peace agreement with nancy, who eventually went back to bed
- started a load of laundry
- re-viewed two episodes of "house"
- helped nancy with her first bathroom trip and put her back to bed
- started the coffee pot
- started another load of laundry
- said "gooooood morning!" to mike and pat and administered meds
- bathed, dressed, and put my hair in pigtails
- went outside to hang the washcloths on the line
- took care of a dead mouse i found in the backyard
- said "have a nice day!" to mike (i missed pat.)
- read most of the june 2008 issue of flare
- emptied the dishwasher
- said "gooood morning!" to nancy, administered meds, and helped her with breakfast
- said "gooood morning!" to kevin and adminstered meds
- helped nancy pick out clothes
- filled the dishwasher
- washed med cups, pots, and tupperware
- said "have a nice day!" to kevin and nancy
- boiled med cups
- cleaned counters and swept the floor
- tidied the living room
- came upstairs and stared for a bit
- tidied my room
- made this list

next:
- breakfast!!!

an open letter

dear men in my life,

i don't even know how to begin. it seems like the last few years have afforded me countless opportunities to witness crimes against the very soul of masculinity. and i want to say something to you, because i have heard stories, i have read theory, and i'm devastated.

we live in a world that tells men they have to conquer, even to kill, in order to prove their worth. sometimes it's figurative, but it's always insidious. we live in a world where being a man means valuing ideas over people, control over compassion, and power above all. as far as engaging the world, a perverse hybrid of hedonism and stoicism is the way to go. oh, and women are meant to be used. and it's not just soldiers who hear this... it's kind of all of us.

there are brands of feminism that are trying to sell the same package to women, because equality means being equally powerful. because power is the only currency we deal in.

i'm profoundly shaken.

and i wanted to say... look, i'm not blind to the real battles we all face, as individuals and corporately. i'm just questioning our strategy, which seems to be self-destruction. and i want you to know that what i value so very much about you is not your domination of others, but your self-giving love for those around you. and when you use whatever power you've stumbled upon to raise up the poor, the weak, and the broken, you inspire me to hope.

and hope seems to be what we need right now.

p.s. craig, you told me first. i can never thank you enough.

regarding caspian

today i joined the mounds of lewis fans who crowded theatres to consume this summer's ration of narnia chronicles. i wanted to write out a few of my reflections, both positive and negative. if you've seen it, please weigh in!

bad news first... my top 10 issues:
10) romance between susan and caspian. just no. ok?
9) no real "repentance" scene for susan and peter, which was internally consistent (see 5, below) but sad. i love aslan in that scene.
8) competitive tension between peter and caspian. this was explicitly not the case in the book: peter assured the telmarine heir that the pevensies were just there to help, and that he had no ambitions to the throne.
7) along the same lines, an uber-ambitious, vengeful caspian. who is this guy? in the book he never imagined launching an attack on miraz until the centaur called for it. he wasn't enough of a kid here.
6) two words: mexican standoff. oh, four more and some punctuation: are you kidding me?!?!?!!?
5) the decision not to follow lucy's vision of aslan was treated very lightly, which was quite disappointing. this was a crisis in the book, almost a crucible for the pevensies.
4) the ecological bent of lewis' work was tragically underplayed. all but gone gone was the telmarine fear of trees and water, which was to be contrasted with the narnian way. there was some depiction of telmarine industry, but this wasn't enough for me.
3) dropping this line: "you come from lord adam and lady eve, and that is both honor enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor on earth. be content.”
2) dropping this line: "wouldn't it be dreadful if some day, in our own world, at home, men started going wild inside, like the animals here, and still looked like men so that you’d never know which were which?"
1) not enough cuddling with aslan. i'm not kidding.

nice changes:
- including the white witch. i'm more than ok with it, 'cause it revealed important things. and because ed was the one to deal with it, and that seemed to heal up some issues from lw&w
- "for narnia" vs. "for aslan" - sweet and very much in keeping with lewis' themes. i like it very, very much.

ambivalence:
- the battle at the telmarine castle. just not sure how i feel about that change.

criage:
- war freaking tears me up right now. when the gate came down after that battle? i cried and cried. just bad. there's prolly another note coming about that.

joy!

"it's not a party if it happens every night"
beg your pardon, postal service, but recent experience suggests the reverse.

things i'm celebrating:

a) getting a degree. because it's cool, but also because i finally really finished something. aces.
b) getting into grad school. because i can start making decisions and new mistakes.
c) spring. because it's warm(er). and rain, green, and flowers are good. and sun, too. sun is good.
d) going for walks with nancy, pat, kevin, and mike... going to tim hortons and listening to music and swinging and greeting strangers with them. 'cause wow.
e) staying in touch. it rocks my little world.
f) sushi and cake. four days in a row!!! (pretty sure the streak ends tomorrow)
g) getting through a mother's day without bad tears!!!! potentially the first time ever.
h) vegetables. i like them. i always have. which brings me to...
i) my parents, for better and for worse.
j) matcha. 'cause yum.
k) closure. because freedom is sweet.
l) is for the way you look at me... i mean... no that works, too. i'm celebrating unspoken things.
m) purple (toe)nail polish. do i even have to explain?
n) mangos and avocadoes. see above.
o) is for the only one i see... finding God in the midst of bewilderment and hurt and beauty.
p) touch. (angie! i miss you!!!)
q) poetry. in motion or standing still.
r) time set aside for people i care about.
s) the chance to go back to romania in two months. and to hit italy on the way.
t) rivers, oceans, lakes, and water in general.
u) nostalgia-inducing music. particularly oasis, rick astley, cranberries, and counting crows.
v) the human body, which is among the most beautiful things i've ever seen.
w) growth. my hair and my heart and my to-read list.
x) new things i'm going to see and hear and learn tomorrow.
y) because we like you.
z) sleep :-)

news!

his heart upon my sleeve

///beauty///
conceive me as a dream of stone:
my breast, where mortals come to grief,
is made to prompt all poets' love,
mute and noble as matter itself.

with snow for flesh, with ice for heart,
i sit on high, an unguessed sphinx
begrudging acts that alter forms;

i never laugh, i never weep.
in studious awe the poets brood
before my monumental pose
aped from the proudest pedestal,
and to bind these docile lovers fast
i freeze the world in a perfect mirror:

the timeless light of my wide eyes.
~charles baudelaire





this is the exact antithesis to my view of beauty. but i still love the shirt.

my unshopping list

a) packs of condoms from costco
b) pregnancy tests from the dollar joint

just fyi.

linger

i found the most beautiful dress in the world today. truly. a corner of it caught my eye and i was ensorcelled. a middle-aged woman was nearly trampled as i was drawn to the far corner of the rack. gingerly, i took the material between my fingers and pushed the other dresses aside.

ivory flowed for miles, framed by a deep, life-giving red.
the beading was tasteful, elegant.
i gazed at the rich simplicity in awe.

it was so beautiful.

pulling myself away took tremendous self-control.

and i began to think about beauty: the way it invites and captivates me. the way being on victoria lake or watching the northern lights or flying into an albertan sunset overwhelms me because it passes understanding. i cannot bring it into myself. not fully. it is too much. and yet i cannot abandon it...

beauty woos me to itself and my heart hurts when i am parted from it. just being in its presence - daring to gaze, even to reach out to touch it - fills me with joy. and my little life means something because it has embraced beauty... i couldn't wrap my arms all the way around, but i did take a corner between my fingers and sigh.

those lingering moments with the most beautiful dress on earth changed my day. everyone and everything around me grew more lovely in the glow of what i had beheld.

with a bed above my head

ikea guy: can one of you hold the roof racks so they're perpendicular to the van?
sharon: yeah, mara will do that, 'cause she went to university and she knows what perpendicular means.

[later, grappling with roof straps...]
me: so, does anyone need any greek translated?
ikea guy: you have a degree but you don't know how to use straps?
sharon: yeah, we've already established that was more theoretical than practical.
me: hey, for the record, i can put the ikea stuff together... i just can't get it home.

through my myopic eyes darkly

though the glare of the city was sufficient to light our walk, the rocks underfoot remained blurry. as i stooped and squinted, it seemed to me that this was kinda the point: fumbling in the dark, trying to find something that will be beautiful when brought into the light.

in the waiting line

nancy's been having a rough week. bipolar would be one good way to express it. bouncing on her bed like a trampoline, slapping her ears, crying, talking about head hurts/foot hurts/bum hurts/ear hurts/hair hurts, wanting to go for walks for the first time since winter started, wanting to sleep in her room all day.

because today is easter. and she can't handle the anticipation.

i want to be more like her. not the bipolar part, but the excitement part. the can-hardly-contain-myself part.

"we know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.
not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies...

meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling...
so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life."
~paul

"call in the morning. easter tomorrow."
~nancy

η δε ελπις ου καταισχυνει

this one is dedicated to them heartbroken lovers...

blue lagoon supplies one of my favourite workout songs: "break my stride." its steady and energetic beat encourages me to, um, maintain my stride.

aside from that, the song is your basic "you done me wrong and now i'm pretending my bitterness is resolve" schpiel. there was a time when it made quite a bit of sense to me. that is, i was quickly able to list the number of goals i hadn't met because i let other concerns sap my energy and focus. and i'd listen to this song, not in anger against those things - no one but me has control over what i pour myself into - but in hope that i'd love my goal enough to maintain my stride.

but before i make this my new take on life, i look at Jesus. you know, just to check. and there's lots of support in his example and teaching. luke 9, for example: "Jesus resolutely set out for jerusalem" and then told potential followers that "no one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God." no turning back, no turning back. eyes on the prize and all that.

so what did Jesus' straight-as-an-arrow path look like?
- teaching about sharing His message, neighbourly love, contemplation, prayer, shining, woe to the religious leaders, hardship and persecution, worry, wealth, repentance, radical generosity, heaven, celebration, forgiveness, reunion, the cost of following, reversal of poverty, and His impending death
- performing exorcisms, healings (four events, two of which were on the day of rest)
- crying over Jerusalem
- counselling humility, persistence, childlikeness, and poverty before God
- making friends with tax collectors
- visiting his friends
- praying alone and in groups

and then He entered jerusalem on a donkey and the passion plays take over. you probably skipped that list but here's the point:

there are so many times that He's on His way from point a to point b and someone interrupts: a woman touches Him, a blind man calls out. you know how Jesus responds? "ain't nothing gonna break my stride?" iiiiiiii don't think so! no, He lets the needs of others determine His agenda, trusting that genuine love cannot interfere with the ultimate goal.

my stride can be resolute while still being open to others. or, anyway, Jesus' was. and i'm of the mind that God's got the same thing in mind for me.

and another thing... do you think Jesus really cared if people "walked all over" Him? do you think He worried about boundaries and enabling? i wonder...


ain't nothin' gonna break my stride
nobody's gonna slow me down
oh no, i've got to keep on movin'

ain't nothin' gonna break my stride
i'm running and i won't touch ground
oh no, i've got to keep on movin'

watch the music video!

"exceptional"

standing in the hallway of the widow's house, i put down my egg salady bagel and said, "i know it's strange to philosophize at a time like this..."
"no, it isn't," dad said.

i laughed. "well, ok, it isn't. anyway, the other night, we went outside to see the lunar eclipse. and i said to adil, 'there's nothing special about this: a rock is casting a shadow on another rock. there's nothing spectacular about it... and yet, it's beautiful.' in fact, lots of people were out freezing their toes and noses off, watching the moon turn red. but there's nothing so amazing about it. same with this," i pointed around me. "it happens all the time. hundreds, thousands of times a day. it eventually happens to every person. there's nothing unusual about it... but it's ugly and painful and shocking, every time. even though it's ordinary."
"yeah," he tilted his head. "in the end, it appears that perhaps everything is extraordinary."

whenever i ask my dad how his day was, he says, "extraordinary." he doesn't mean to imply that something terribly unusual happened, or that the day went spectacularly well. he means it literally: it was unlike every other day he has ever experienced. entirely unique.

we let things become ordinary when they needn't be so. we let it happen to words, touch, rites, exchanged glances, sunsets, numbers, brushstrokes, and elephants. we let it happen and, all the while, say that we seek meaning and hunger for wow. we're, um, ridiculous.

"finding God in the ordinary" and all that isn't about injecting spiritual mumbo jumbo into the banality of everyday life, reinterpreting everything in some tenuous way. and it's not about retreating from the ordinary so that something magical can happen. i mean, sometimes it is, but it shouldn't be.

lunar eclipses and weak knees and friends' deaths and kids' prayers happen because rocks cast shadows and people are attractive and cancer cells grow and parents drag their offspring to church. ordinary, mundane things. but - without ascribing purpose at all - i think it's safe to say that they have the power to shake us out of the ordinary. to open our eyes to that truth my dad spoke, just hours after shaking a shovelful of dirt over his friend's coffin:

everything is extraordinary.

in love

when you love, say not that God is in your heart
say rather that you are in the heart of God

part i: odd

ross' gift: the trophy, the note, and the necklace.
finishing my paper.
scrabulating with dave.
a pig and a phone call from michelle.
listening to "did galileo pray?"
finding words to pray.
laughing at myself.
making a card with pat.

i started this day feeling so weird. once the tired faded, i still couldn't place the strangeness within. i went about my business, administering meds, drinking my shake, looking at the paper... and then it suddenly occurred to me: i think i'm happy.

it's happened again since. and jiminy finally synchronized himself to me and hummed vivaldi's spring (allegro) in my ears. and it was just right.

part ii: i don't know what kind of girl i am

lying on the couch, so tired that my eyes hurt. bringing my sore lids together... and in the darkness hearing pat butter her toast. what a lovely sound: a knife scraping against crisp bread. somehow beautiful.

parting from cori and james with "juno" in my mind, damp cheeks, and a full heart. knowing the blanket i'm making will keep them warm.

part iii: awed

watching the candidates' debates and realizing that the things people care about are simple: making ends meet, taking care of their children, good roads, good food, and the freedom to choose their path. in the course of looking out for all that, our government has to think about the implications of bhutto's assassination, the development of alternative fuels, and the fate of every worker in china.

and God's like that, too: the things i care about are small and important. it is for Him to reflect on the enormous and important. the two are not as discreet as all that, though. they're deeply connected, which is why God invites to me to gaze beyond my own needs, into eternity. giving someone a cup of water has something to do with scores of angels reciting the triagion in united worship.

all that I promise is strength for this day,
rest for my worker
light on your way
I give you truth when you need it,
My help from above
undying friendship, My unfailing love

picking out which prayers to use tonight, i quickly chose the ones to be prayed before reading scripture and before sleep, but hesitated over the one to be prayed after work. "did i work today?" i asked myself. somehow that question feels like a very good sign.

like, somehow, rest and contentment can be found in the midst of much responsibility. wait, not just "can be found"; are found, even by me! seriously!

pick a road, decide
[are you] a plane or a train or a bride?
decide, decide...
Your love makes me move at the speed of trees...

i'm so in love.

when you love, say not that God is in your heart
say rather that you are in the heart of God