To Tempt You Into Reading.

The moon looks wonderful in this warm evening light, just as a candle flame looks beautiful in the light of morning. Light within light. It seems like a metaphor for something. So much does. Ralph Waldo Emerson is excellent on this point.
It seems to me to be a metaphor for the human soul, the singular light within the great general light of existence. Or it seems like poetry within language. Perhaps wisdom within experience. Or marriage within friendship and love. I'll try to remember to use this. I believe I see a place for it in my thoughts on Hagar and Ishmael. Their time in the wilderness seems like a specific moment of divine Providence within the whole providential regime of Creation.

-p.119, Gilead, by Marilynne Robinson

Morning in (Mostly) Black and White.

Portland Winter

This is for all my lovies who used to live here and miss it.

[lower MacLeay Park, Forest Park]

[My backyard, early January snow]

[Mt Hood, from my car on the 205 bridge]

Wacky Friday

Today feels like a Dr. Seuss opposite Wacky Wednesday sort of day.
But rather than shoes having wings, baby carriages moving on feet and fish wearing hats, I heard a rooster crowing at 10am in Gresham, went to school on a Friday, found a parking spot on campus, discovered something called "Milk enriched candy", went outside without a coat and was warm, and saw a girl in Nordstrom with a Chihuahua puppy (oh wait, that's normal).
It all just feels rather odd.
Now I'm going to go eat lunch. At 3:22. And that's normal.

It's Thursday

It's Thursday evening - night, rather - and I have been a terrible blogger. I come home after a long (but not busy) day at school/Josh's apartment, check out what's been happening this week in the wonderful world wide web only to find that most of my friends have been posting all sorts of interesting posts (thanks). I have not.

In other news, it was cold and foggy today - usually my favorite weather, but not when combined with air conditioning. What does conditioning have to do with making the air cold, anyway? When I think of conditioning, I think of stuff that makes my hair soft and shiny, or people complaining of sore muscles after sports conditioning - not blowing cold air on people's heads and making them shrink into their coats and blow on their fingers, trying to restore enough feeling to continue taking notes.
Let's call it air misery from now on, k?

Art and English

"The Great Figure"

Among the rain
and lights
I saw the figure 5
in gold
on a red
fire truck
moving
tense
unheeded
to gong clangs
siren howls
and wheels rumbling
through the dark city


"This is just to say"

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold


by William Carlos Williams

What I Learned

My Linguistics professor tried to impress on me the importance of writing down the cute little things that kids say. I generally forget, but yesterday I heard something so cute I just had to write it down.

Henry, age 3, and I were looking at some hidden pictures and were looking for a highly stylized caterpillar - looked something like a bent saw. I said to him, "Okay, we're looking for something with spikey, jagged lines." He stares intently at the page and repeats, "Spikeabee, jaggalee lines!"

So I came home from work yesterday having learned two new adjectives which I am fully planning on using from now on.

Something About

One thing I love about spending quality time with my dearest loved ones is laughter. It is not often caught, as usually whilst laughing, no one is steady enough in body or mind to take a half way decent photo.

I love these.

New

-New blogger
Yes, I converted.

-New hair
Well... new color at least.



















-New photos
I haven't gotten the good ones from the boys yet, but these are pretty rad.








































-New paint
This is for Pamela: check out how freakin rad your old room now is.

The End (of Winter Break)

Yes, the end has come. What clued me in? There have been many reminders. Josh, for one, has verbally mentioned the sad fact more than once today.
Other hints involved getting up, getting dressed and leaving the house, with lunch, at a decently early hour; walking around downtown in the rain; sitting through lectures, trying to decide if it's worth it to start a conversation with the person next to me; mentally visualizing my planner to fit in the homework and work; missing calls and having no reception; using my brain.
There is no denying it: winter quarter is here, allegedly bringing snow and cold weather to distract us from homework.
I will wear my Wellies.

The Process of Writing “The New Year's Blog”

I walk determinedly into my room, not taking care to shut the door behind me. I put my popcorn and water on the floor next to my bed, grab Stuart, clear the clothes to the back of my bed, and sit. I open Window's Media Player and My Photos, in case of inspiration blockage. This moment has been long awaited and long shirked.

The shirking began probably a week ago. “Mm. I should probably write a New Year's blog. So much work. Later...”. Then on New Year's day: “I should probably think though 2006 and consider what could go into a New Year's blog. Or... sleep”.
Today was worse. The mental nagging continued as I wandered around the streets of North Portland and the Pearl with friends from near and far, looking at sculpture lamps, mixed media with resin, robots on the Burnside Bridge. In conversation I heard that two of my friends had posted lovely and interesting New Year's Blogs. Crap. This was almost worse than being behind on my Christmas cards (which I did mail... January second). To make matters worse, the topic of New Year's resolutions came up over superb espresso in Albina Press. Oh dear. I haven't come up with a good one of those, either. And here we are, four days into the new year. Last year's was to not steal music. (For the first time in my life I kept a resolution. So this year's had better be good.) Reading more and shopping less were mentioned: beneficial, yes, but no cigar. More reading is not good – I have to do it anyway. Less shopping is surely not an option. There's always the classic “more exercise” or “be healthier”, but that's just normal aspirations – not special or specific enough for New Year's. Vowing to climb at least once a month would be cool, but finances and health are too sketchy to be relied upon, putting too many constraints on that option. I thought of choosing to not watch TV or something along those lines, but that involves unnecessary and difficult social awkwardness, an idea of which I like of about as much as taking a science class – oh wait, I am. Emily said she was hoping to read more biographies of good Christian people. Something spiritually enriching would be smart. I could try reading more Christian books... but extra reading for an English/Art History major is kind of a bad idea. Abbie wants to “wear more art”. I could take that to mean sew more, but I will probably do that anyway. I might take it a step further and learn to crochet, maybe. Daveo resolved to “blog more”, which, obviously, I have done a pretty good job on with the exception of the last few weeks. I considered resolving to be more nice, patient, generous and/or considerate. But that's not quantifiable enough. Or maybe I just didn't want to.
Nothing seemed worthy, so I laid off thinking about it.
Later this evening, as I stood in the kitchen making popcorn and talking to my mom, I tried to think of what I could resolve to that would be that I could put a time frame on (as in, daily, weekly, monthly), would be enriching, something I don't already do, and something that would be remotely possible. Then I remembered that on Sunday, Dave had challenged us to read the whole Bible in 2007. Perfect. A resolution at last.

Now for the blog. What to do, what to do.
I open my photo folder for inspiration. Photo blog year in reviews are cool. I have my photos organized by year, season, and events in which I took a lot of pictures.
Winter: Snowboarding. Christmas.
Spring: Josh's visit. Spring break.
Summer: South Carolina. Mt Vernon. Ft Stevens. Canada. Schreck's visit.
Fall: Halloween. Thanksgiving.
Winter so far: Christmas in the South. (Soon to add: Adventures with Daveo.)
What does that show me about the year in review? That my life revolves around Josh, traveling and holidays, and that winter comes twice a year. We all knew that.
I could write a “best of/worst of”. Too much work. I could write a “what I did this year essay”. Boring. So here I sit, eyes growing dry and bleary as I type and ponder, taking the occasional break to chat with my sister or look around the room and wonder at how I can continue to misspell “occasional” and have to spell check right click fix it.

Maybe I'll just leave off at 800 words, sit back and start my year off relaxing with my Wodehouse Companion, plotting how to read all 92 of his books as soon as possible, and let you look over the last 12 months of blogs in the archive if you really want to know how my year was.