Writing a 6 paper on sincerity, hypocrisy and desperation as it relates to religion turns into quite an introspective adventure.
28.2.06
26.2.06
"Food! For People Who Are... Underprivileged!"
[I got a little bored with the way cloudy saturday afternoon pictures turn out... just in case anyone was wondering about the photos.]
Saturday, as our contribution to the 30 hr Famine, the Jr hiers went out into a nearby neighborhood to ask door-to-door for canned food. Well, first, we stood in front of the church building with some of the High schoolers and aided in the general yelling, waving mayhem to attract attention to the cause.
This picture is only a semi-accurate depiction of what the scene entailed. Micah was usually on the verge of being run over while unintentionally appearing to be throwing cans of food at passing vehicles. Molly looks pretty foreboding herself in this one. Olivia looks her usual enthusiastic. These kids have excellent self-assurance and evidently great zeal for feeding the hungry. Good cause + good fun = good saturday afternoon.
Someone had the brilliant idea to take a long a wheelbarrow for carting the bags of food. Somehow I found myself with the job of wheeling one while these three lovely ladies knocked on doors.
Here we have collected people, rather than canned goods. (I think I'll leave it at that.)
Saturday, as our contribution to the 30 hr Famine, the Jr hiers went out into a nearby neighborhood to ask door-to-door for canned food. Well, first, we stood in front of the church building with some of the High schoolers and aided in the general yelling, waving mayhem to attract attention to the cause.
This picture is only a semi-accurate depiction of what the scene entailed. Micah was usually on the verge of being run over while unintentionally appearing to be throwing cans of food at passing vehicles. Molly looks pretty foreboding herself in this one. Olivia looks her usual enthusiastic. These kids have excellent self-assurance and evidently great zeal for feeding the hungry. Good cause + good fun = good saturday afternoon.
Someone had the brilliant idea to take a long a wheelbarrow for carting the bags of food. Somehow I found myself with the job of wheeling one while these three lovely ladies knocked on doors.
Here we have collected people, rather than canned goods. (I think I'll leave it at that.)
25.2.06
Good Things
-My room smells like snowboarding (because, though I may not have gone, my pants sure did).
-My tummy is full of yummy dinner my mom made.
-My mind is full of images of InsAne rock climbing from watching Dosage III at PRG tonight.
-My heart is full of happiness from seeing lovely friends today.
-My tummy is full of yummy dinner my mom made.
-My mind is full of images of InsAne rock climbing from watching Dosage III at PRG tonight.
-My heart is full of happiness from seeing lovely friends today.
23.2.06
22.2.06
Wanting to Want Him
“God isn’t looking for religious people; He’s looking for people who are hot after His heart. He wants people who want Him, who want the Blesser more than the blessings.” –Tommy Tenney, The God Chasers, p. 149.
If you have two and a half free minutes, go read this article. It will humble you. (At least it humbled me.)
If you have two and a half free minutes, go read this article. It will humble you. (At least it humbled me.)
21.2.06
Oh Father of Modern Art
I have spent the better part (when I wasn't procrastinating) of the afternoon and early evening twisting and wringing my brain to produce some 516 words regarding Piet Mondrian and his article "Natural Reality and Abstract Reality" (1919).
I thought of posting the article.
I thought of posting my response ["in your own words please summarize"].
I thought of how much I love those innocents who so caringly read my blog.
I thought better of it.
Please, enjoy the paintings.
I thought of posting the article.
I thought of posting my response ["in your own words please summarize"].
I thought of how much I love those innocents who so caringly read my blog.
I thought better of it.
Please, enjoy the paintings.
20.2.06
Mood-enhancer
It snowed on my face today as I walked downtown.
Snowing downtown is so strange and fun. Teeny tiny white flakes coming out of nowhere flying around - one landing on my nose, one on my cheek, one on a tree, one on the sidewalk. At first I thought I was crazy. "Was that a ... snowflake?" squinting at the clouds. "No... Ooo - I think there's another!" looking at a dark coloured building. And then they actually started coming down. I put my bare hands in my pockets, squeezed my arms to my sides and started trotting joyfully down the street.
Snowing downtown is so strange and fun. Teeny tiny white flakes coming out of nowhere flying around - one landing on my nose, one on my cheek, one on a tree, one on the sidewalk. At first I thought I was crazy. "Was that a ... snowflake?" squinting at the clouds. "No... Ooo - I think there's another!" looking at a dark coloured building. And then they actually started coming down. I put my bare hands in my pockets, squeezed my arms to my sides and started trotting joyfully down the street.
19.2.06
Terrible
Those who have been around me in the last week or so have more than likely heard me express my wishes that Anna Karenina would just commit suicide and get the drama over so that I can have peace from the ridiculous building drama and get the book over with.
What a terrible moment, though, 49 pages till the end of the book when Anna throws herself under a train and that's it. That's it! We read once a few pages later that her lover, Vronsky, went nearly insane with grief and misery and had to be all but put in a padded room away from sharp object for a few weeks, but nothing of anyone else's feelings. Her brother, it said, had within a few weeks forgotten his grief. A slight mention was made in passing that her husband had been present at the funeral. Nothing else. No glimpses into the thoughts of Vronsky, the husband, or any of the friends. Nothing. Not even any of the society rumors. Yes I wanted the drama to be over, but I didn't want her to be forgotten! For goodness sake. How frightfully unjust. Granted, the story continues with the search for meaning in life that another character has sought after basically the whole novel, and that is resolved. But... Anna gets nothin.
Whooo.
Maybe Tolstoy had finally gotten sick of her and her obsessive drama.
I suppose after 4 years of writing I would have, too.
But-
Perhaps Tolstoy had grown to love her so much that he created the only true ending for Anna. She not only wanted revenge on Vronsky, but on everyone. This complete and abrupt -almost lacking- ending is true revenge, leaving every reader forever miserable with her fate.
"...it seemed so easy and simple to her that she again began to enjoy thinking how he would suffer, repent, and love her memory when it was too late. (751)"
What a terrible moment, though, 49 pages till the end of the book when Anna throws herself under a train and that's it. That's it! We read once a few pages later that her lover, Vronsky, went nearly insane with grief and misery and had to be all but put in a padded room away from sharp object for a few weeks, but nothing of anyone else's feelings. Her brother, it said, had within a few weeks forgotten his grief. A slight mention was made in passing that her husband had been present at the funeral. Nothing else. No glimpses into the thoughts of Vronsky, the husband, or any of the friends. Nothing. Not even any of the society rumors. Yes I wanted the drama to be over, but I didn't want her to be forgotten! For goodness sake. How frightfully unjust. Granted, the story continues with the search for meaning in life that another character has sought after basically the whole novel, and that is resolved. But... Anna gets nothin.
Whooo.
Maybe Tolstoy had finally gotten sick of her and her obsessive drama.
I suppose after 4 years of writing I would have, too.
But-
Perhaps Tolstoy had grown to love her so much that he created the only true ending for Anna. She not only wanted revenge on Vronsky, but on everyone. This complete and abrupt -almost lacking- ending is true revenge, leaving every reader forever miserable with her fate.
"...it seemed so easy and simple to her that she again began to enjoy thinking how he would suffer, repent, and love her memory when it was too late. (751)"
17.2.06
Huh. Yeah.
So I'm really sleepy and have nothing at all to post about. The last few days I've looked at my Dashboard, nodded a few times, maybe even signed in, and then nothing.
I don't know if this is because I haven't done anything interesting recently, or there's been nothing unusual or humorous going on, or anything at all going on anywhere - or because I just have very limited short term memory anymore. Probably the latter, I'm guessing.
Very few thoughts from the day stick out in my mind.
But they're good, so... at least my mind holds onto positive memories, though they are few. [Or maybe they're just funny and weird, which is generally equated with good in my mind.]
Such as:
I saw a guy with a green hat and thought "huh. That guy has a tree on his head."
And:
Portland looks more unfriendly (like NYC) when it's 20 degrees. People shuffle around hugging themselves and looking paranoid. Not to mention the roads become owned by the pedestrians. I think the drivers are sympathizing, understanding that the poor folk on foot are desperately trying to get inside as fast as possible.
I don't remember much else about today besides that we watched part of a movie in French class about a Chef named Pascal and there was a scene where a crazy Georgian dude runs down a hill, stops a car, jumps in flailing a gun and shoots a pig in the backseat three times. We all laughed really hard, mostly because we didn't know what do think of it, not really because it was actually all that funny. And I had a job out in the sticks. The drive was beautiful but I now have doubts about Sister Maria's capabilities of staying on the road in such winds. I was actually more concerned with getting pulled over for erratic (drunk looking) driving than getting blown into a ditch.
Oh yes - a shout out to Borders books is due. They're going to let me exchange a cd that I, of my own uneducated negligence, unwittingly purchased and do not want for the one that I do want Even though I not only opened the plastic and the case, but also listened to said cd. (The Customer Service rep Was male, but I do strongly believe this simple fact had anything to my getting this favor. I am under the assumption that he probably wasn't interested in females, so don't go saying I batted eyelashes for this.)
That's all.
I don't know if this is because I haven't done anything interesting recently, or there's been nothing unusual or humorous going on, or anything at all going on anywhere - or because I just have very limited short term memory anymore. Probably the latter, I'm guessing.
Very few thoughts from the day stick out in my mind.
But they're good, so... at least my mind holds onto positive memories, though they are few. [Or maybe they're just funny and weird, which is generally equated with good in my mind.]
Such as:
I saw a guy with a green hat and thought "huh. That guy has a tree on his head."
And:
Portland looks more unfriendly (like NYC) when it's 20 degrees. People shuffle around hugging themselves and looking paranoid. Not to mention the roads become owned by the pedestrians. I think the drivers are sympathizing, understanding that the poor folk on foot are desperately trying to get inside as fast as possible.
I don't remember much else about today besides that we watched part of a movie in French class about a Chef named Pascal and there was a scene where a crazy Georgian dude runs down a hill, stops a car, jumps in flailing a gun and shoots a pig in the backseat three times. We all laughed really hard, mostly because we didn't know what do think of it, not really because it was actually all that funny. And I had a job out in the sticks. The drive was beautiful but I now have doubts about Sister Maria's capabilities of staying on the road in such winds. I was actually more concerned with getting pulled over for erratic (drunk looking) driving than getting blown into a ditch.
Oh yes - a shout out to Borders books is due. They're going to let me exchange a cd that I, of my own uneducated negligence, unwittingly purchased and do not want for the one that I do want Even though I not only opened the plastic and the case, but also listened to said cd. (The Customer Service rep Was male, but I do strongly believe this simple fact had anything to my getting this favor. I am under the assumption that he probably wasn't interested in females, so don't go saying I batted eyelashes for this.)
That's all.
14.2.06
Le Jour de St Valentin
This is for anyone who loves French or silly love poems. (Liana and Janell - I had you in mind.) My French prof has a sense of humor and gave us Valentines homework. Supposedly it was to make us work on direct and indirect objects, but I really didn't fit too many in. C'est pas grave.
Tu es le chocolate en mon croissant quand j'ai besoin lui.
Tu es mon caffe au lait dans ma classe francaise.
Tu es ma chanson prefere quand mon ame manque de la musique.
Tu es la bouteille d'eau chaude pour mon coeur quand je suis froid.
Tue es l'echinacea en mon jus d'orange meme lorsque je pense je n'ai pas besoin de lui.
Quand tes lettres touchent ma boit aux lettres, je sens leur chaleur quand je l'ouvre.
Tout les cartes tu m'as envoyes, je les lis souvent.
Quand tu viens ma porte et je l'ouvre, je ne me demande pas porquoi je souris.
Quand je donne mes cadeaux au facteur, je sais il comprend je veux les arriver rapidement.
Quand j'etends ton voix, je veux l'ecuter toute la journee.
Tu es le sucre dans mon the et la embrasser dans mes bras.
Je t'aime.
Happy Valentine's Day, everyone. I love you all.
Tu es le chocolate en mon croissant quand j'ai besoin lui.
Tu es mon caffe au lait dans ma classe francaise.
Tu es ma chanson prefere quand mon ame manque de la musique.
Tu es la bouteille d'eau chaude pour mon coeur quand je suis froid.
Tue es l'echinacea en mon jus d'orange meme lorsque je pense je n'ai pas besoin de lui.
Quand tes lettres touchent ma boit aux lettres, je sens leur chaleur quand je l'ouvre.
Tout les cartes tu m'as envoyes, je les lis souvent.
Quand tu viens ma porte et je l'ouvre, je ne me demande pas porquoi je souris.
Quand je donne mes cadeaux au facteur, je sais il comprend je veux les arriver rapidement.
Quand j'etends ton voix, je veux l'ecuter toute la journee.
Tu es le sucre dans mon the et la embrasser dans mes bras.
Je t'aime.
Happy Valentine's Day, everyone. I love you all.
11.2.06
Skyping With Lovlies Eeeeee
Looking at the screen wishing to be with them, kissing them and then laughing at... me and them. Heeeeeheheee.
7.2.06
How
I wonder and I wonder - how can people not see how much God loves us? Or how amazing He is? Or how insanely much bigger than us He is? Or how incredible heaven is going to be?
I always get like this when I've been up snowboarding, I suppose.
But... standing atop Mt Hood, gazing out from peak to peak to peak with ripples of blue and green in between, breathing deep breaths of clean, cold air, soaking up hot rays of sun... ahhhhhh.
On stepping off The Magic Mile Express I saw this rock (and when I say rock, I mean Rock: about 6ft in diameter, at least) covered on one side in a spiky swirl of ice, built up, I'm assuming, over the winter with special distinction from last weekend's blizzard.
[The following photos include topics from, but not limited to, the previous rant.]
[You guessed right: that is SkiBowl.]
[Note: So... I realized later that those last two pictures were taken with the same window. One from the outside reflection and through from the inside.]
I always get like this when I've been up snowboarding, I suppose.
But... standing atop Mt Hood, gazing out from peak to peak to peak with ripples of blue and green in between, breathing deep breaths of clean, cold air, soaking up hot rays of sun... ahhhhhh.
On stepping off The Magic Mile Express I saw this rock (and when I say rock, I mean Rock: about 6ft in diameter, at least) covered on one side in a spiky swirl of ice, built up, I'm assuming, over the winter with special distinction from last weekend's blizzard.
[The following photos include topics from, but not limited to, the previous rant.]
[You guessed right: that is SkiBowl.]
[Note: So... I realized later that those last two pictures were taken with the same window. One from the outside reflection and through from the inside.]
5.2.06
Portraits...
of our pre and post snowsport insanity:
Lisa defies my all too often picture taking.
Skylarr and his blue hands, arms, face...
Hat hair... need I say more?
Sophie is a skiing thug.
Lisa defies my all too often picture taking.
Skylarr and his blue hands, arms, face...
Hat hair... need I say more?
Sophie is a skiing thug.
3.2.06
2.2.06
Happy... Star Wars?
"Ooo! I see Darth VADER!"
"What are we gona do? I know someone..... who lives in the Bat Cave who'll save us!"
"Oooo I think I seeee someone!! Is it a bad guy? Hey! Happy Halloween!" [to his next door neighbor]
-Gabriel, age 4.
I spent my afternoon playing Catch Darth Vader in Sellwood. Don't you all just hate your jobs now. But I think this kid hit on something: Batman vs. Darth Vader. How cool would that be. They even have almost matching outfits and almost matching werid voices.
"What are we gona do? I know someone..... who lives in the Bat Cave who'll save us!"
"Oooo I think I seeee someone!! Is it a bad guy? Hey! Happy Halloween!" [to his next door neighbor]
-Gabriel, age 4.
I spent my afternoon playing Catch Darth Vader in Sellwood. Don't you all just hate your jobs now. But I think this kid hit on something: Batman vs. Darth Vader. How cool would that be. They even have almost matching outfits and almost matching werid voices.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
