"what are you thinking about, little girl?"
"just thinking," francie said.
"sometimes i see you sitting on the gutter curb for hours. what do you think of then?"
"nothing. i just tell myself stories."
miss tynmore pointed at her sternly. "little girl, you'll be a story writer when you grow up." it was a command rather than a statement.
"yes ma'am," agreed francie out of politeness.
7.25.2007
7.23.2007
ethni[cities]
the black church conference starts today. that's really what it's called. en serio. black church week. i love it.
sometimes [more often than not] i am more at home with people of different ethnicities than i am with white people.
sometimes [more often than not] i am more at home with people of different ethnicities than i am with white people.
7.18.2007
the art of smell
sometimes i wish i could record a smell and then play it back at the most opportune time.
honeysuckle.
that's what it would be.
that and china.
honeysuckle.
that's what it would be.
that and china.
7.14.2007
7.12.2007
niños
i had forgotten until just recently how much fun children really are.
they are uninhibited. care-free. funny.
i wish i could be like that.
last week we had a group of puerto rican children...i felt so at home.
i was upset when they left. it was like i had been given time with them--this culture that i love so tremendously--and then they were gone.
hopefully they'll be back. hopefully i will be back.
they are uninhibited. care-free. funny.
i wish i could be like that.
last week we had a group of puerto rican children...i felt so at home.
i was upset when they left. it was like i had been given time with them--this culture that i love so tremendously--and then they were gone.
hopefully they'll be back. hopefully i will be back.
7.06.2007
6.23.2007
everything has changed....
i'm sitting in this coffee shop in what could be the coolest southern town that i have ever lived in....black mountain, north carolina. google it. i read this quote one time by donald miller:
"when you build a city near no mountains and no ocean, you get materialism and traditional religion. people have too much time and lack of inspiration."
it is true. i can only say that because i grew up far from mountains, and am now living in a city surrounded by mountains. there is more creativity, more community, and less judgement than i have ever felt.
in fact, there is so much life in this city that, were i not such a fan of living, i could just sit back and experience life through observance of others.
que hermosa.
so this coffee shop-the drippolator-is little. locally owned. not a franchise, praise God. this is where i come to get away. i'm surrounded by tremendously appetizing aromas of coffee (apparently, the coffee of the evening is sumatra), paramore, conversations, good music, and solitude, all at the same time. kind of a paradox, huh? i'm not[yet] convinced that solitude consists of chaining yourself in a dungeon.
so it is here that i have come to realize that my friendships are not entirely fulfilling to me right now. i can't get what i need from them. well, having jesus, isn't that the point? yeah. i'm reminding myself that this is not a negative thing. that it is, in fact, a blessing from God. so this is the theory i have now:
my frienships are not fulfilling to me; therefore, jesus must be.
not everything can be in focus at once.
"when you build a city near no mountains and no ocean, you get materialism and traditional religion. people have too much time and lack of inspiration."
it is true. i can only say that because i grew up far from mountains, and am now living in a city surrounded by mountains. there is more creativity, more community, and less judgement than i have ever felt.
in fact, there is so much life in this city that, were i not such a fan of living, i could just sit back and experience life through observance of others.
que hermosa.
so this coffee shop-the drippolator-is little. locally owned. not a franchise, praise God. this is where i come to get away. i'm surrounded by tremendously appetizing aromas of coffee (apparently, the coffee of the evening is sumatra), paramore, conversations, good music, and solitude, all at the same time. kind of a paradox, huh? i'm not[yet] convinced that solitude consists of chaining yourself in a dungeon.
so it is here that i have come to realize that my friendships are not entirely fulfilling to me right now. i can't get what i need from them. well, having jesus, isn't that the point? yeah. i'm reminding myself that this is not a negative thing. that it is, in fact, a blessing from God. so this is the theory i have now:
my frienships are not fulfilling to me; therefore, jesus must be.
not everything can be in focus at once.
6.12.2007
discovered suppositions....
i have recently come to the conclusion that i want to purchase a polaroid camera. i want to take pictures. i want to document things. life. and, perhaps, the lack thereof. i want to partake in the art of life. in a new way. this is a new way for me. estoy emocionada....
also...i have discovered the elegant brilliance of the moleskine. you see...i enjoy writing with fine-tip sharpies. most paper is too thin for this. moleskine, however, is not. i think it is the official notebook, sketchbook, journal, (etc) of those who live life. i feel artistically official...or maybe officially artistic.
i suppose....
also...i have discovered the elegant brilliance of the moleskine. you see...i enjoy writing with fine-tip sharpies. most paper is too thin for this. moleskine, however, is not. i think it is the official notebook, sketchbook, journal, (etc) of those who live life. i feel artistically official...or maybe officially artistic.
i suppose....
6.07.2007
i got two very special emails today:
one from china
one from mexico
and then i bought a plane ticket to new york.
these are the three places i long to be. not at once. that would be hell.
just someday. someday.
someday i will speak spanish without feeling insecure.
someday i will live in china.
someday i will sit in washington square park and read a book. with my dog...a chocolate lab.
my friend john has a chocolate lab.
i miss him.
the dog too.
one from china
one from mexico
and then i bought a plane ticket to new york.
these are the three places i long to be. not at once. that would be hell.
just someday. someday.
someday i will speak spanish without feeling insecure.
someday i will live in china.
someday i will sit in washington square park and read a book. with my dog...a chocolate lab.
my friend john has a chocolate lab.
i miss him.
the dog too.
6.04.2007
cambia
as much as i love-or pretend to love, i guess-change, it's still the hardest thing in the world to do....
nevertheless, i will go on adventures.
nevertheless, i will go on adventures.
11.05.2006
one night while in mexico...
Sometimes my mind is so saturated with the moisture of thousands of thoughts that all I care to do is sit on the darkened shore and watch the waves communicate with the moon. Perhaps the sloshing water in my mind will join the conversation and let me be.
It is 10:55 pm, and I find myself so weighed down that all I want to do is run. Maybe skipping would be better. That at least incorporates some sort of joy. But I don’t feel like skipping. Or running. I just want my mind to lie down on its well-worn bed and sleep.
I decide to create a piano lounge inside my head by listening to the smooth, well-played soul of Vince Guaraldi as I fall into my own world.
Where would I rather be right now? The obvious answer to that question is…well…anywhere.
I would sell my book collection for a pair of wings. I would go get lost in foreign cities. That always produces such a feeling of romanticism inside my heart. I could sit at a coffee shop. Write. Read. Sip my coffee. Talk to strangers. Where are you from? That always turns into an adventure when in a foreign city: Well, originally I am from Brazil. When I was eight, my parents moved to the United States. At the young age of twelve, I went away to boarding school in Europe. After school I moved to New York City for three years. Well, I got bored with New York. Then I decided to move here and learn the language. You don’t say? That question alone seems to answer every other question on the list. Do you have any brothers and sisters? What is your favorite episode of Andy Griffith? Do you like to fly? What about cloud formations, do you enjoy analyzing those? Ok, so maybe not every question, but that initial where-are-you-from conversation seems to mix a conglomeration of colors and gives permission to keep painting. Because, you see, once the painting is finished, you are fulfilled. From there you can either contemplate the painting or create another.
If I had someone beside me right now, I think I would like to have an exchange of random thoughts. It would go something like this:
-so i got a paper cut today
-no way….a bad one?
-yeah, man. it could probably use some stitches.
::pause::
-so you know how foreign cities make you feel all romantic and stuff?
-yeah, man.
-what does that mean?
-what?
-romantic.
-i think romantic means totally other than what you already possess.
-oh. interesting.
::pause::
-i think that if i could rename myself, i would call myself sophia.
-that’s interesting.
-it’s pretty romantic, right?
-yeah, man. romantic.
::pause::
-i like to use big words a lot.
-like what?
-like accompaniment.
::pause::
-do you like to read?
-no, i fall asleep.
-oh. well, i do. i like to get lost in another world.
I think what I long for most while sitting on this desolate beach of my mind is a conversation. It would be a great accompaniment. I haven’t been able to involve my heart in much lately. My soul hasn’t been able to mingle with another. Because of this, it is easily worn out. That’s why the lake in my head has just stolen all my energy…my poor soul can’t seem to take anything. I’m just so worn out…I can’t even fly right now. And now I don’t even have any books to read. I sold them all so that I could fly. I guess I’m stuck here right now.
Moral of the story: let your soul mingle with another…
It is 10:55 pm, and I find myself so weighed down that all I want to do is run. Maybe skipping would be better. That at least incorporates some sort of joy. But I don’t feel like skipping. Or running. I just want my mind to lie down on its well-worn bed and sleep.
I decide to create a piano lounge inside my head by listening to the smooth, well-played soul of Vince Guaraldi as I fall into my own world.
Where would I rather be right now? The obvious answer to that question is…well…anywhere.
I would sell my book collection for a pair of wings. I would go get lost in foreign cities. That always produces such a feeling of romanticism inside my heart. I could sit at a coffee shop. Write. Read. Sip my coffee. Talk to strangers. Where are you from? That always turns into an adventure when in a foreign city: Well, originally I am from Brazil. When I was eight, my parents moved to the United States. At the young age of twelve, I went away to boarding school in Europe. After school I moved to New York City for three years. Well, I got bored with New York. Then I decided to move here and learn the language. You don’t say? That question alone seems to answer every other question on the list. Do you have any brothers and sisters? What is your favorite episode of Andy Griffith? Do you like to fly? What about cloud formations, do you enjoy analyzing those? Ok, so maybe not every question, but that initial where-are-you-from conversation seems to mix a conglomeration of colors and gives permission to keep painting. Because, you see, once the painting is finished, you are fulfilled. From there you can either contemplate the painting or create another.
If I had someone beside me right now, I think I would like to have an exchange of random thoughts. It would go something like this:
-so i got a paper cut today
-no way….a bad one?
-yeah, man. it could probably use some stitches.
::pause::
-so you know how foreign cities make you feel all romantic and stuff?
-yeah, man.
-what does that mean?
-what?
-romantic.
-i think romantic means totally other than what you already possess.
-oh. interesting.
::pause::
-i think that if i could rename myself, i would call myself sophia.
-that’s interesting.
-it’s pretty romantic, right?
-yeah, man. romantic.
::pause::
-i like to use big words a lot.
-like what?
-like accompaniment.
::pause::
-do you like to read?
-no, i fall asleep.
-oh. well, i do. i like to get lost in another world.
I think what I long for most while sitting on this desolate beach of my mind is a conversation. It would be a great accompaniment. I haven’t been able to involve my heart in much lately. My soul hasn’t been able to mingle with another. Because of this, it is easily worn out. That’s why the lake in my head has just stolen all my energy…my poor soul can’t seem to take anything. I’m just so worn out…I can’t even fly right now. And now I don’t even have any books to read. I sold them all so that I could fly. I guess I’m stuck here right now.
Moral of the story: let your soul mingle with another…
10.27.2006
10:55 seems to be a good time of night for me....
it's 10:55 pm. (i wrote that while in mexico one night.) friday night. it rained today. it was yucky...but only while i had to walk to class. after that it was lovely. fall is lovely in tennessee. yellow, red, orange. hmmm....nice.
i have a lot of different emotions rushing in on me right now. but i can't seem to touch them. guilt, stress, weariness. guilt for wasting time today. stress for the amount of homework i have to do this weekend. weary because i'm worn out in every aspect of the word. i feel like ophelia in hamlet--"There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray, love, remember: and there is pansies. that's for thoughts."--here's guilt for...here's stress for...here's weariness for...
i've always been very aware of my emotions but never knew what to do with them. now, more than ever, i "don't know what to do with them." so i read, or write, or dance, or watch tv, or play on the computer. bad things? no. not in and of themselves. but they take up my time for silence.
a good friend of mine was led to send me an email the other night. this is what she said to me:
did i stand up a different person? no. were all my problems and fears whisked away? no. was it life-altering? no. at least not yet.
at this point of incoherence in my life, all i can do is faithfully take my times of silence and hope in jesus that he is to be found. he is. i know it---this is me trying to convince myself.
silence still hurts. it still scares me. i still don't know what to do with it. but without it, i am falling apart. jesus is to be found in silence. i know it! i just have to choose to be quiet.
i have a lot of different emotions rushing in on me right now. but i can't seem to touch them. guilt, stress, weariness. guilt for wasting time today. stress for the amount of homework i have to do this weekend. weary because i'm worn out in every aspect of the word. i feel like ophelia in hamlet--"There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray, love, remember: and there is pansies. that's for thoughts."--here's guilt for...here's stress for...here's weariness for...
i've always been very aware of my emotions but never knew what to do with them. now, more than ever, i "don't know what to do with them." so i read, or write, or dance, or watch tv, or play on the computer. bad things? no. not in and of themselves. but they take up my time for silence.
a good friend of mine was led to send me an email the other night. this is what she said to me:
promise me that if the gamei took her challenge. the games were rained out. so i promised that i would sit still for an hour. it scared me. silence scares me. God speaks in silence. i have been running from silence for quite some time. yes, i am exhausted, that is to be expected, but i didn't want silence either. i had no choice last night. i made a promise. i turned my lights off...lights seemed to kill any kind of quiet mood. i turned the lights out, except for this lighted air freshener in my room, laid down, and listened to the silence.
gets
rained out, you will use that hour to be still. And I don't want the
"but I
could use that hour to get ahead on homework" excuse, or the "but now I
have
a free hour to zone out in a book or tv" excuse either. No excuses. You
need
to stop and sit still. It's changing my life and it has the power to
change
yours too.
did i stand up a different person? no. were all my problems and fears whisked away? no. was it life-altering? no. at least not yet.
at this point of incoherence in my life, all i can do is faithfully take my times of silence and hope in jesus that he is to be found. he is. i know it---this is me trying to convince myself.
silence still hurts. it still scares me. i still don't know what to do with it. but without it, i am falling apart. jesus is to be found in silence. i know it! i just have to choose to be quiet.
10.21.2006
trying this again
i used to blog...back in high school. but then it was just a vain attempt to get people to think i was funny. now i feel as though i have more of a purpose. i found, deeply imbedded in my soul, a desire to write and communicate. i have been exploring this more lately than ever. so this, my "blog," will be my outlet. so i am trying this again.
thanks for reading.
be sweet,
o
thanks for reading.
be sweet,
o
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