Creative Me

Suffice it to say, I have a very lucky sister. You'll have to forgive the long blog silence, but you have to understand, I have been very busy working on this:







Kind of an art piece/collage/mixed media coolness, a gift for her 16th birthday festivities which took place this past weekend. Had to photograph it in pieces so you could see the detail. I photographed it from left to right, so hopefully you can use your imagination about how the pieces fit together. And I also made this:



How about this cake? So, here's a question: Do you think anyone would pay to have a cake like this for a birthday, anniversary, or holiday instead of one from a grocery store? Do you think someone could support themselves making cakes, muffins, breads, cupcakes and the like instead of working some desk job? Not a plan for the immediate future, but maybe someday...?

Seriously, I am going to post a long, thoughtful post soon, very soon. Super-soon. Just you wait.

S.

A New Direction

Okay, okay, enough of the siliness already. I can tell by the enormous influx of feedback I have recieved that nobody was as amused by the whole latte incident as I was. This is not surprising, as I really could have predicted that from the beginning. So, by way of atonement, I have continued in my never-ending quest to bring YOU a better blog, note the tweaking at right. I think every single one of those pages, in retrospect, is run by a woman (with the exception of the Prince, I think). Oh well. If anybody knows any supremely awesome web pages that are run by men, pass them along and maybe they'll make their way into the hall of greatness. Maybe not, since I'm so obviously biased, but never give up hope, I always say.

Anyway, in a schizophrenic sweeping of the pendulum from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other, my offering today is extremely serious. It's a piece of creative work that I did while at L'Abri, probably the most satisfying piece I've written since leaving college, so I like it, even if it's not necessarily "good." It's a little stream-of-conscious a la Faulkner, tho it's not a comparison I would take any farther than that. It's from the perspective of the Gerasene Demoniac, a tale which you can find in Mark 5 and Luke 8, if you are of the Bible-thumping persuasion. Hope you enjoy.

***

there is no time before them, before dark, before pain. maybe someone else knows of it. i don’t know. they hit, they cut, my hands, they take them. my hands, they beat me. my hands, they take up rocks, my hands, they beat me, i bruise, they laugh, are laughing. my hands, they take them, my hands. tombs, yes, tombs, yes, living tombs, loving tombs, yes dead, yes beyond dead, yes worse than dead. oh, please be dead. end. dead.

my hands, they tear and cut, my hands, my body, all cut, all bleeding, all bruising. rocks, shackles, cutting skin. i tear. half-speaking, others come. they bind, only touch is ruthless, touching, end, come for the end, yes, please. it is not for us, but for them, the chains, shackles, ropes, stones, spikes; binding us. no matter. they break them all and i bleed. i bleed again, broken ropes, broken chains, broken wrists. blood, rocks, dust, blood.

many days. many, many days. why so many? where the end? god, let me end. end me. they will never end.

who is it? who comes? they know him, oh god, what is he? what is what, is light, is he? the end? they, we, stagger me to him. we will kill. he will tear, will cut, will break, they will end him and consume me forever. oh god. not you. not my hands.

he speaks. oh god, a light explodes inside, pain in, pain out, everywhere. chest breaking, back breaking, breath breaking. end me, end me, end me. they have me tightly, will never leave, not for you, Light, not for you will they end. end me. gasp and chuckle, stones, dust, sky, where is the sky? breath in, breath out, breath out, breath out, what is breathing? not my breath, i am closing, broken, they crush my heart with heavy, with the weight on them of you.

the ground is beating me when they are done. eyes open, there are his feet. dust, eyes, feet, dust, where is my breathing? my chest opens huge for the air to come back, it rushes out again until i am flattened. in and out, in and out hugely at his feet. i must send him away, must speak, must get past them. my words are theirs, theirs, mine, theirs. same question. same hate.

“What have you to do with me?”

you, Light, i see you, they see you and you are not with us, you are not of us. you, Light, run, take shelter from this darkness, why is Life in the place of death? why is Bread here with the only, only hunger? you, doppelganger, you must go, we are not of each other. Light has nothing to do with darkness and, what, oh wretched, oh god, what do you know of this pain?

“I beg you. Do not torment me.”

do not, oh yes, do not crush as a light must crush darkness. you, i see you, they saw you coming. you will wipe us all away, will brush away, fall away from you, from life, from light. I see it coming by your hand, the ending, a new, a deep, a deeper darkness. abyss is for us. oh god, please. oh Light, please. no more.

he asks my name. i used to have one. they took it, my name, they took my name. my name is Demoniac. their name is Legion. oh god, there are so many.

they speak, are speaking, speak through me. my voice is theirs. they want my life forever, host to parasite. we go, are going, all going to abyss.

my hands outstretched. please, Light. please, mercy.

suddenly, rushing. suddenly, light. wind rushing past as a thousand spirits not my own are leaving, departing, please, forever. rushing wind of spirits flying past and through. light, wind, sky, sweet grass, sweet sun, oh god. rushing wind of two thousand pigs running past, carrying my darkness. pigs, carrying my darkness into the sea. it’s a joke? my darkness destroyed, and yet i live? oh, Light. Wonder.

When I saw your face, I remembered beauty. They would not let me raise my eyes, but you sent them away and I could behold. You gave me clothes. You fed me. Then I could sit at your feet as a man and not as a wilderness. Inside, all was quiet. Where there had been a hundred voices, now I could hear only my own and yours. A stream of people came to marvel, to shudder, and finally to beg for your departure. But me you have never left since that day. Oh breath, oh life, how much you, Light, Christ, God, how much you have done for me! I am still sitting at your feet, listening to the fresh-water sound of your voice, gazing at a face brighter than the sun-glare off desert sand, a face like a son of man.

When I finally saw your face, I remembered my name.

Promises, Promises

So, as I promised, here it be. I know that you have all been deeply coveting, but the best that I can offer is a couple photographs. I had to get one from each side so you can see that there are four distinct colors. A kind of brick red and golden wheat color, and then a pea green and burnt brown. Something like that. Note also the little coffee bean design inside. The roses, of course, are from one of my beaus.

Funny Bone

A funny thing happened to me today. Well, first of all I went to the arts festival with my wee sister, and we looked at carved things and glass things and painted things and weird things and more cheesy "charming-flower-strewn-corners-somewhere-in-France" photographs than I hope to ever see again. But that part of the day was quite lovely. And then, the funny thing happened.

My mom apparently went to the house of one of her church friends and was admiring her collection of "latte mugs" which are apparently those large, shallow mugs that I would use as a cereal bowl, but some civilized people apparently use exclusively for latte drinking. Anyway, she admired them so much that this friend went out and bought her a set of the mugs. I was helping her unwrap them today and noticed that in this case a "set" meant five, which is really an ususual number for any kind of serving dishes, which just about always come in round numbers. And I asked my mom why five, and she said, offhandedly, that her friend had figured that when Heather and I got married, and there would be one for each of us. Yes, that's right, one for me and my hub, Heather and her hub, and my mom. All happily sipping lattes together.

It may be important to note that I don't think the generous friend is question has ever even met me. But, as I reflected on this purchase, it really tickled my funny bone. Someone has actually purchased something for my future husband, and has in fact entrusted it to my care the way you hand something to a friend who's going to run into a mutual friend at Starbucks later. And drink lattes. From very large mugs. No one has ever gone so far in assuming that I am going to get married as to actually buy something for the lucky man.

So, as far as a dowry goes, that's it, to the best of my knowledge, that's the total package. I just want all the single men out there to know that, if you should be so fortunate as to win my hand in marriage, you get not only this choicest of wifeys, but also, a very large mug out of which lattes can be drunk.

So, that settles it. I have wavered back and forth on this marriage question for many a year, but now that the latte mug has come into the picture, there can no longer be any question of what I will do. I obviously must get married. A mug so singular as this one can only be used as was specified by my generous benefactor. And believe me friends, it is singular. Four years of studying writing at the college level and words fail me. I have decided to post a picture at the first available opportunity because this latte mug is too precious to sully with my weak words. So I will leave you to dream longingly and covetously of my glorious latte mug until then.

Sweet Dreams,
S.

You've Come a Long Way, Baby

Sometimes I have this funny little lapse of judgement in which I think that everyone knows exactly as much about what's going on in my life as I do, despite geographical distance, and my failure to actually indicate to anyone what is going on. But, most of you are not telepathic, so I will have to fill you in the old-fashioned way.

So.

I must inform you that I have joined the French Foreign Legion, which is what all us love-lorn, waifish folk who have come to the end of their ropes do. Soon I will set out for the baking sands of farthest Arabia, crossing them with a slow camel and a heavy heart, to help my comrades hold down the fort against invading Moors.

No, that's not actually true. But seriously, would you be surprised at this point if that's where I was? I swear, for the last year, not even I can tell where I will turn up next. An Arabian desert is merely a drop in the bucket to a tumbling tumbleweed like myself. BUT, if you had known anything about the Legion, you would have known that the chauvinist bastards don't accept women, and so would have quickly seen through my ruse. In actuality, I am back at the old homestead in Houston, living my quiet civilian life and trying to understand this complicated little monkey I call my life.

I have been trying most recently to untangle all that has happened in my past two months at L'Abri. Mostably, I don't know. Which makes the perennial question of "So, did you get what you needed out of your time?" question really obnoxious. The time seemed to pass by in a whisper and a nod, and mostly I feel that I progressed greatly in places that I didn't really anticipate progress, and seemed to have changed very little in the ways in which I wanted to change. The greatest annoucement, the most earthshaking change that took me two months to arrive at is that I am going to move away from Houston. Yes, believe it or not, it took me a full two months to arrive at a decision that just about anyone who had a 15 minute conversation with me could probably have advised. In fact, it seems so obvious to me now that it is unbelievable that it took so much time to arrive at it. But really, I guess if that's what it took to get me there, that's what I needed.

I think another thing that was kind of an unexpected theme was my learning to try new things. Another issue that seems pretty darn simple, but it has always been a struggle for me. Being afraid that I'll do badly has actually kept me from doing lots of things that I've wanted to try. But I have had to put myself out there so many times in the past couple months, I feel like I've had no choice but to accept the possibility that I'll do badly or look foolish when I first try something, but that's part and parcel of learning something and all that anyone can expect.

On the other hand, I don't for the life of me know where I stand on this whole God issue. Seriously, clueless. Don't even ask me, I'll just get mad and spit in your eye. In your eye! All I know is that I'm still very much in the God camp, with the strangest, most dubious relationship that anybody in the God camp has ever had, ever. I suppose I more or less have all of my intellectual ducks in a row (yes, they're intellectual, and they're ducks. They have PhD's.) but, at the end of the day, what does that mean? What good is it if you have intellectual peace and no emotional change?

But as for now, it's a blustery afternoon in Houston and I'm once again scrambling around for a job, any job please, without a lot of optimism. Houston looks like a good place to find a job, seeing as how every freaking store has a Now Hiring sign. Don't be fooled. None of those places actually want to hire anyone. It's an elaborate trick, or at least that's been my experience. Besides, who would want to live in Houston? Houston is a hole.

So I'm just going to listen to Queen and eat quiche. It's a q day.

S.

Hello, Moon

Say what you want, I don't care how hokey or Disney-fied I sound. I take great comfort tonight from the fact that all of us are able to look up at the same moon. All of my families, in Kansas City, Houston, Buffalo, Houghton, Massachussates, Nigeria, Australia. To everywhere that has been my home, I wish you a clear sky. Go out to your porches, the woods, the city, search for her watchful eyes above you. Say hello for me.

I Want to Give You Something Beautiful

This is not profound. This is more me checking in, popping my head out the door and saying, "Hello, outside world. Long time no see." Amazing what can happen to you when you step out of the world for a while. For example, I was at Target over this past weekend and I nearly died because there were so many different kinds of underwear. Seriously, there were like 12 different kinds. Just women's. How do we handle that on a day to day basis?

This time has been good. I have been more artistic in the last couple weeks than I have been for months. I think of poetry, though most of it I still don't write it down. I hosted a talent show. I performed a hip-hop dance. I learned to split wood. I have new friends. I have had hard discussions, with myself, with God, and with other people. I have discovered the Book of Common Prayer all over again. I let the baby grab my finger tightly. I drank a lot of tea. I commit again to Beauty.

Next time I will have more to say. For now I just wanted to say hello...

Hello.