Still Waiting...but in the meantime...

Hey, folks. Well, we continue to slog away over here. Many things have been going on, some good, some not so good. It is still Lent. And I think it still does make me feel pretty crappy a lot of the time, but I do think that it's worth it. I do think I'm getting somewhere. I'm having new thoughts. New ideas. Sometimes I feel like our backyard looks right now, squishy and muddy and full of dead leaves that should have been taken care of last fall and weren't, so now they're just sogging all over the place. But soon. Soon. Soon we'll dig out the fire pit so we can have bonfires and sangria. Soon we'll start seeds for the garden. Soon I will plant my sister's cosmo daisies along the back fence. Soon new life will start over. Sigh. Oh, please, let it be soon.

Anyway, one of the exciting new developments is that one of the art groups I work for is starting to do an interdisciplinary artist critique once a month. We had our first on ever this past Thursday, and it was a big success, with a photographer and a painter doing in depth presentations, then others just brought in one piece of work and we left comments on sticky notes. It was a great night. But, for a while, I thought that I was going to have to share some of my writing, just because it was our first time around and we weren't sure who would volunteer. So I was going through some of my old stuff that I haven't touched since graduation, almost three years ago. It was quite the walk down memory lane. Some stuff was "OMG, I can't believe how bad this is!" and some stuff was, "Why did I ever look down on this? It's so much better than I remember!" Especially the fiction. I always insist, whenever I mention it, that I can't write fiction at all, that I tried and it was terrible. But looking back on it I can say, yeah, this isn't perfect, it's not wonderful, but it's not that bad. It's actually pretty okay. So, I'd like to share. Here is a poem I wrote way back, I think in my junior year. Approximately 1 million years ago.

Need to Know

At my grandfather’s funeral,
I waited until no one watched
the casket very closely.
And then I sidled very near,
finally getting a boost from the kneeler;
so I could touch the pale hand
that lay on his chest, clutching
the gold crucifix.

The hand was stiff, and waxy as
the candles that lit our vigil.
I pulled my hand out quick
and turned around slow.
To see if anyone had noticed,
But no-all of the adults still pulled
their long faces and talked
in hushed voices about how
much we all had lost.

My cousins were all too young
to dare me, so I had dared myself.
There was no trace of mourning in me,
just sheer, ribald curiosity.
To touch the hand of death,
to learn to know the feeling,
and to pull back quick, and not get caught.

Lent Sucks

So, it is Lent. As always, during Lent as during all seasons, I set lofty goals for myself. I have decided to fast, which I hate, but we had a very compelling discussion in Bible study on Fat Tuesday that reminded me why it is so important. I hate fasting. But then I thought out this beautiful plan because, here is the thing of the thing. I feel like I have always had the whole "Jesus died a horrible death on the cross to take away your sins" thing shoved down my throat my entire life, to the point where the whole thing has become basically meaningless. I mean, not the whole Christian thing, but pretty much the whole cross thing. So, I had this great idea where I would totally plagiarize from Wallace Stevens "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird" and do Thirteen Ways of Looking at the Cross. I would write beautiful, poetic posts and gain beautiful, poetic insights and grow in my faith and unicorns would prance around the back yard and I would poop rainbows. But, let's just get realistic for a second.

I hate Lent. We're only two weeks into it, and I can say with confidence that all the shine of the transcendent solemnity of Ash Wednesday is dead in the water, buried, forgotten. I am sick of the Lenten feeling, of being broken open, of fragility, like raging case of PMS fragility, where I might start tearing up because of an especially touching Visa commercial. I am sick of knowing about my sin all the time. I KNOW about it now, ALL the time, it comes to mind without me having to try especially hard. I can realize actually IN the moment, "Shannon, you are being a disgusting human being right now." And the crazy part is, I ask for this! I ask to see myself more clearly, because I get so comfortable in my "Well, I've never killed anyone" morality, and I want to know truth, about myself, about who I am and what I've done. But it's really yucky. I get cranky when I'm cold or hungry or when my eye is STILL irritating me even after I've been to the optometrist and been forced to wear my glasses for weeks on end and switched to more expensive contacts. And I get lonely and grumpy and fed up and it doesn't take long and it doesn't take much exterior aggravation. It's strangely like these feelings were always there and it just takes a little bump in the road, a little scratch on the surface for them to all come spilling out. Like fasting. You can skip one meal and all of a sudden you go from being Mother Teresa to being Attila the Hun. One unmet need. One aggravating circumstance. Stupid fasting. Stupid Lent. Stupid eye. Stupid everything.

But, when I do eat, when I patch myself up enough to think straight, I know for sure that this is the point. The point is that, left to our own devices, left to our own well-fed, blind self-satisfaction, we are dead in the water. We are only as good as we are comfortable. And it is all there, lurking beneath the surface. We are kidding ourselves when we esteem ourselves to be "good people." The only way to get past this, to find grace, is to slog through the sewer of our own wretchedness, to be broken open, to become fragile, to be driven crazy enough that looking for healing becomes not only sensible, but necessary. Maybe illumination will eventually come, maybe not. Maybe the illumination is just to have to sit and wallow for 40 days in my own selfishness, to know that God loves me enough to die for me, even if I am the person who was going to rip someone's face off because they didn't sufficiently appreciate to beautiful, artistic nature of Edward Scissorhands, the person who can't be exposed to other human beings when she doesn't eat for 9 hours, the person who still gets jealous as a teenager when all the guys are asking another girl to dance.

I'll make it through. I doubt it will be much fun, but I believe that it will ultimately take me, if not somewhere pleasant, then somewhere True.

S.

Things I Luv

Well, this is a fair piece after my intended approximate-vicinity-to-Valentine's-Day publication date, but, I think it is good to at least get it up before the end of the Month of Love. Here are some things that warm my heart:

1. Lists (well, duh) If you've hung around here at all, you'll see that I like to make them. Lists are like the girders of my skyscraper, the underlying structure that gives form and direction to my life.

2. Libraries--I love the library. It is one of the things that makes our nation great, that we have places to go where they give you books for free. And CDs. And DVDs. And cookbooks. And if they don't have the book you want, they'll bring it to you from wherever it is. Did you catch that--they bring it to you!! For free! Well, actually it costs 25 cents here in Bflo, but that's very cheap when you consider how much it would cost to buy the book or even to drive across town and pick it up.

3. Having friends--Friends made my Valentine's Day great this year. Come to think, given my chronically dateless state, friends have always been what made Valentine's Day great for me. This year we got some ladies together and dressed up and had tea and fruit and scones and clotted cream and quiche and finger sandwiches and vegetables and flourless chocolate cake and lemon bars. And we laughed and laughed, mostly at ridiculous things. Friends are always worth having.

4. Feeding people--again, long time readers will know this. (I dream of those corn pancakes, btw) We had Bible Study this past week and someone brought a friend and they brought a friend and we had more folks there than I thought we would and I had made French onion soup and an apple cake and they descended like a locust hoarde on my mountain of food and by the time they left it was all gone. I love that.

5. Dogs--I love dogs. They are so sweet and fun and great. I am still thinking seriously about getting one, so I have dogs on the brain. Every time I see someone walking one, or even see dog pawprints in the snow, I sigh a little and think, "That could be me..." Maybe someday soon, it will be.

6. My job--I have the greatest job ever. I work with people I admire and enjoy and respect (most of the time anyway). At this point, I have just exactly the right amount of work, so I stay busy but not overwhelmed. I am around art all the time. I am learning new things, but it isn't scary. I feel supported, but not watched. I have never had a job that I enjoyed so much in my whole life. I need to figure out how to keep having a life that's this awesome all the time.

7. My space heater--it came from Target, and I think it cost me about $17. If it only lasted this one winter, I would have no regrets about buying it. Our house is set to a balmy 55 degrees during the day, but I just stay in my little room with my little space heater and get through the day like I'm in Bermuda (well, that's a little bit of an exaggeration, but still). I seriously do not even have enough words to tell you how much I enjoy my space heater. It has changed the way I experience winter in Buffalo. Thank you, space heater, from the bottom of my heart. You are a valued member of this community.

That wraps it up for me today. I have in mind a little project for Lent, but I don't want to tell you about it in case it doesn't come to fruition. If it happens...you'll see it. And you'll know.

S.

Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa

This is an old picture of me in my glasses. We'll get to that later.

Okay, a month of non-blogging. That is not admirable. Now at this timely junction I must present another post of "OMG, I haven't posted in so long, but here are all the cool things I've been doing!" Most of the cool things in this issue are work related. We started rehearsals for the next show at the Alt. It's called Wading through the Light and Shadows and it's kind of a compilation of original poetry, shorter prose pieces, original choreography and an ethereal soundscape/sound effect type stuff. It's a pretty cool show, and it's been running since February 4 and will keep going till February 21, so if you're in the Buffalo area you should go see it. I've enjoyed this show quite a bit because I was able to have the littlest teeniest tiniest bit of actual artistic input. It hasn't been much, but it was something, and since this is only the second show I've ever worked on, really, I should be profoundly grateful. But those rehearsals were taking up every night, along with new work for the Arts Council, a new fundraising project, illustrating a book with refugee kids, lobbying the city to get permission to do painted cross walks, and other such types of work during the day, my schedule was packed. Now that the show's playing, I actually have more free time, which seems fairly ironic to me.

I've also enrolled in another dance class, Modern 2, not surprisingly a continuation of Modern 1. And again, I'm keeping my head above water, but only just. With this class we actually have a book(!) and reading assignments(!) and written reflections(!) so it's more time consuming than the last class. But the book is wonderful, it's like a compilation of philosophical treatises on the theory of Modern dance written by the people who essentially created it. Maybe they'll be something on here from that soon. Also, I've been to see Avatar, taken the first of what I anticipate to be many trips to the botanical gardens, and made rolls and a number of cakes. And I'm also trying to make head way with learning to play the guitar, which might be going well? I'm learning lots of new chords, but still have a general inability to move between chords in, you know like an actual song, without embarrassingly long pauses while I watch myself adjust my fingers. Sometimes I feel a sense of despair of ever being able to master even the simple aspects of playing the guitar, but that's really the point of this whole experiment, trying something that I find really difficult and sticking with it, even though it remains...really difficult. All of these things have kept me away from the tip tapping of the keyboard that produces these delightful chronicles.

I just have one actual crystallized thought to share for the day. I went for a check up to the optometrist about a week ago and found out the the irritation I was experiencing in my left eye was actually corneal keratitis, which is just a fancy way of saying that my cornea was irritated by lack of oxygen and becoming hazy. I was condemned to wear my glasses for three days, which suddenly blossomed into a full week when my appointment had to be rescheduled. This was surprisingly difficult for me. I haven't worn my glasses for more than the time right before bed or first thing in the morning for years. I didn't feel like myself in my glasses. I didn't feel as pretty either, which made me feel more shy and more invisible. But I still had to do my life, go to Argentine tango and vie for dance partners with everyone else. Go to Emerging Leaders in the Arts meetings, my current most-obnoxiously-akin-to-high-school experience in terms of being in a room with peers, cool kids, and trying not to feel like a silent, awkward loser. But you know what? It wasn't that bad. There were lots of times that I could forget that I was even wearing them and could discover that I was myself even in my glasses. That glasses vs. no-glasses is not an intrinsic part of who I am, not the way the comment I forced myself to make at the ELAB meeting about how artists need support and critique from other artists, not just professional development, is an intrinsic part of who I am. Which is good to know. Good to remember. So that's my revelation for this week.

That's all.
S.

The Winter List

Snowy day at Southborough L'Abri

So, I've been trying to think lately about what things I want on my Winter List. For newcomers, this year, I have been trying to make a list of all the things I want to do in each season of the year, things that I feel like the season would be incomplete without. Summer went swimmingly. Fall was jam packed, but fun. Winter...is more of a challenge. Of course the first things I associate with winter "must dos" all have to do with Christmas, the baking, the gifts, the caroling. Check and check. But Christmas is over, and I probably have a good three months of winter yet to fill. I try to also focus my lists on things that I will actually do (taking up skiing would be a great winter activity, but not likely to happen anytime soon) and for this winter, I am trying to balance indoor and outdoor activities. One of the things that I think is great about winter is that it makes staying inside feel cozy and luxurious, rather than stuffy and lazy, which it feels like at other months of the year. So here is the list so far. You can make suggestions if you like. I sure do love making lists...

1. Visit the Botanical Gardens: Sure it makes sense to visit in the summer, but it's nice to go when there's nothing green outside, to anticipate spring. Besides, how could I miss the amaryllis and cymbidium show?!?!
2. Go sledding...the question is, where? Oh, and I have no sled. But a quick trip to Toys R Us would fix that. I prefer the inflatable tubes...
3.Visit the Albright-Knox. Believe it or not, I've been to our largest art museum a few times, but never actually toured the whole permanent collection. And it's free on Friday afternoons. Touring galleries makes more sense to me in the winter when you want to while away an afternoon somewhere warm.
4. Baking. Winter makes me want to bake. I currently have about three different cake recipes rattling around in my head, not to mention all the bread I want to try baking. And having the oven on makes the house warmer! Win!
5. A winter romp. There's something truly magical to me about the way that, when you get all bundled up and really prepare for the cold weather, you can go outside and not feel it. It's like becoming invincible. And everything is so quiet and your head feels so clear. Again, the question is where to go? I'll figure something out.
6. Colored Musician's Club, Zydeco/Cajun Partees: Free jazz music listening parties at one of the most historic sites in Buffalo? A chance to be in the same building that Lena Horne and Billie Holiday once stood in? Yes, please! And five dollars for gumbo, live music, and a dance lesson? All right, then.
7. Art/Craft/Game Night. Just warm things to do when it's cold outside. Spend more time painting, making collages, working on my crossstitch, inviting friends over for a friendly bout of Apples to Apples. Making popcorn. That's winter to me, right there.
8. Make a new best friend? Maybe? Maybe? This is still definitely in the thinking over/planning stages/I still need to run the idea past my housemates, but why not? No, seriously, if you have good reasons why not, you should tell me. I'm trying to be very thorough in my preparation, mental and otherwise.

Okay, those are my plans to warm up the winter and make it fly by. It's really not that bad, people, I don't care what you've heard on the news. Weather is just a state of mind. Let me know if I'm forgetting your ultimate winter activity! Unless it's skiing because...well, we've already gone over that.

S.

Advent Leftovers

One of my Baby's First Christmas ornaments. Awwww...so cute!

Mmmm...a warmed over post! Doesn't that sound tasty? In all honesty, I had some very specific things that I wanted to pontificate on from the Christmas season, and since it passed in such a whirl, and then I had to share my New Year's Guiding Directions, well, I'm just getting to it now. But! They are still important and were really meaningful to me. Also, over the Advent season, I was reading a collection of devotionals entitled Watch for the Light, from all different writers throughout all seasons of church history. I don't know that I will actually reference anything specific, but pretty much all of these revelations came while reading that book, so I feel like it deserves some kind of co-authorship credit.

The thing that I am trying not to launch into right now is my soapbox speech about how the church has lost its liturgical calendar and, therefore I feel, loses nuances in its seasons of celebration. Really, you have no idea the restraint I am exercising in not saying more than that. My fingers are cramping with my exertion at holding them back from saying all that is in my head. But I will say this: Advent and Christmas are not the same thing. Advent is the season of preparation, Christmas is the celebration of Christ's birth, and in the church calendar it doesn't start until Christmas Day! They are separate. And one of the nuances of their separation is that the season of Advent is a penitential season. I never knew this. That's why one of the central figures of Advent is John the Baptist, whose message is repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near. I would now like to go on a tangent to say how much I love John the Baptist. I feel like in the heavenly family, you had the responsible, mature kids who grew up to be lawyers and doctors and made their families proud, and then there was John. John the embarrassment, who lived in the desert, wore what was always depicted in my bible story books as an ill fitting camel's hair onesie, and ate bugs. And yet this wild, crazy dude was the one God sent, the one maybe nobody felt like they could take seriously with a message nobody wanted to hear, but there he was. And he keeps coming back, every year. I want to listen to him.

The second thing that I was reflecting on is the revolutionary nature of Advent. If you look at the Magnificat, Mary's Song, beyond the first three or four oft quoted verses, you see a song of revolution, a song of inversions, in which the proud are scattered, the mighty brought down from their thrones and the humble are exalted, in which the poor are filled with good things and the rich sent empty away. I've never heard anyone preach on those verses of the Magnificat. I wonder if this might be because in contemporary mainline churches, we might identify more with the mighty, the proud, and the rich, and we don't feel that we can quite handle what this song seems to be saying about us and what the coming of Messiah means for people in our class. But maybe that just takes us right back up to point number one?

Last point: I was struck this year by the radical nature of the Incarnation. Let me back up. I feel like when we imagine Jesus coming to earth as a human, we put him in full Jesusness right into a baby's body, like a hand slipping into a glove in which the hand remains unaltered, only the outer form changes. He would have lived out his life knowing all along about the cross, following his father's will perfectly, utterly self-aware of his Jesusness every instant he was here, more wearing a costume than becoming one of us. (First of all, if you believe this, you are a Platonist! Confess!) But I believe that Jesus became fully human, which would mean, initially, fully baby. Knowing only what babies know, both about himself and the world around him. Jesus had to learn object permanence, that when his mother or his favorite toy was out of sight, that didn't mean it was gone forever. He had to learn to walk and talk. He had to learn how to discern and follow the will of God, which I guess he did perfectly, but not equipped with any extraordinary tools beyond what normal humans have. That's what I think, anyway, and in my experience, it changes Christmas, makes it even crazier to think of God coming to earth, not to float through with the ease of perfect understanding and self-conception, but with real human struggles and questions. This is not a systematic theology, so I can't cover all the implications of this assertion (and they are multifarious and variegated, as I'm sure you can guess). But my goal is more wonder than explication, so I hope I might have achieved that, at least in some small measure.

Okay, that's it. This is a long post. Merry Christmas! (Oh wait, Christmas is over. Like, way over. Can you tell I'm having a hard time letting go?)

S.

Third Resolution

Oh, yeah. There's been another one that's been bouncing around in the back of my brain too. Here it is:

3. Learning to laugh at myself. Generally, when I do something dumb. I just feel embarrassed about it. Forever. Like, it could be something that happened years and years ago. I still don't want to tell anyone about it. Being able to laugh at yourself, it seems to me, is the asphalt that can fill in and smooth out the potholes of life. Oh, look at that metaphor! It is so ridiculous! I am laughing at the ridiculousness of my own metaphor! Ha ha ha! Okay, not great. But at least it's a start...