पिएता

Have you ever seen Michelangelo's Pietà?
Most likely the answer is yes.

I, however, had not. I was sitting in my GARTH class, eyes glazed over as we went through Leonardo's sketches and inventions and last supper and his Mona, all about Pope Julius II and all the extravagance he added to Rome, Michelangelo's David, etc. I find art history very interesting in itself, but my mind is prone to wander even when I really would rather it wouldn't.
Anyway my professor flashes Pietà on one of the screens and starts talking about Michelangelo's work not really being quite as developed yet. On the other screen is a detailed image of the sculpture- one staring directly into Christ's face.
I can't really say what exactly it was, but I just start crying. My throat tightens, and I'm not listening anymore, and the tears just sort of roll out of my eyes.
Am I a dramatic person? ...I've been told this before, so maybe yes. But I really didn't want to be crying. I just was, silently. Nobody else was crying and nobody else noticed I was.
I can't even really say what exactly it was, but it was something like-
there was too much beauty in that delicate moment caught in painstaking, hard, and less-than-malleable marble stone. It was the eternal-youth in Mary's face as she held her son's aged, frail, wiry body with so much maternal care- it brought to my attention their dynamic relationship: Mary the mother, Jesus her son- yet also her Father. Also, the peace on Christ's face, his complete acceptance of his death for what? For me to sit in an Art History class? So maybe that's it. I wasn't crying for him, I was crying for me- for my complete lack of urgent responsiveness to his great gift to the World...

for what it's worth.
Here it is:

Today

This is my face:

This is the side of my face:

(And that is my tiny, messy, sometimes impractical-to-actually-cook-in kitchen)
This is what I did today:
Made and baked bread for 5 hours with Daniel Broomba-kini... really, so great.
This is what I'm doing right now:
Cleaning my whole house.
Here's why:

Clare Shanley is coming tomorrow (with boyfriend in tow)
This is what we're doing:
Dancing to Indian music, using our fingers,hands,shoulders. Dingadinga
These are 5 things I love about Clare:
-She is so knowledgeable! about history, politics, movies/books/music, saints, life (as in, "Today is June 3, so it's the feast day of the Martyrs of Uganda, you know like the ones Damian talks to in Danny Boyle's Millions)
-She is so fun! because she is the right mix of spontaneous and lazy (as in "let's go drive around in this lightening storm and eat oreos")
-She is so inspirational! because she's shaped her life to return to those waiting for her in Lesotho/Africa/et al
-She is so practical! she is the voice of reason in my messy life/brain (as in, Melissa- don't drop out of college...)
-She is so good friend! (<--??) because she calls, and cares, and laughs-til-ya-can't-breathe (she brings me groceries!!! when she comes to visit, are you serious! great.)
These are things to be excited about:
Dr. Dog and Yann Tiersen. Jan 28th and Feb 15th.
All Around Good Vibes.
It will be warmer in 2 and 1/2 more months.
Accordions

Onward, or better yet...

Sometimes, everything is different from the way you thought it would be.
Hallelujah! Because don't ya know when you look over your shoulder, without fail, you are so grateful. Why can't we seem to remember this every.time.it.happens?

Hallelujah! for unanswered prayers
Hallelujah! for unexpected bends in expected straight roads
Hallelujah! to the One who knows so much more than I

Right now I am looking over my shoulder, grateful that my life took a sudden turn away from where it was speeding towards. Simultaneously, I'm looking head on at a new bend that terrifies me, that changes everything and leaves me (what feels like) empty-handed.

Hallelujah! to the day that I see why.

Facts:
I am nobody's wife. Praises!
I am not a nurse. or maybe I am, just differently than I previously thought.
Onward! or better yet...
Present! for I've learned the vast importance of living this day, this moment.

On another note: I made sweet potato casserole one hour before class started. Result: interesting, half-baked casserole with brown sugar-crumble topping oddly mixed in with orange potato goodness. Feelings: Not too bad.


What was a bend in your road that now makes you want to say, Hallelujah! ?

White Birch

If today is not a White Birch kind of day, then I know nothing of what is.

It's music for a rainy day.
but when the rain is freezing.
so it's become snow.

Snow and Scales

I live in a little room. in a little house. in a little town.
Snow fell from the sky for the second time since moving here four months ago. This time successfully creating a white blanket, a clean canvas to paint some thoughts over.

I am.
nobody's wife. nor girl... and that is okay. And one day, it will even be good.
I am.
wrestling with what is important

.Some things that aren't making the list:
- what I wear, or, how I look
- school and degrees//Money
- Happiness and Easiness and Comfort
- Anything past this day, this moment.
- Deadlines, Dates, Rushing

I keep changing. Where I live and who I know keeps changing. What I believe and how I act upon it keeps changing. My emotions keeps changing.

Change keeps your spirit from drying up. Change keeps you growing, Keeps pushing you into uncomfortable shapes so that you learn and become a further prepared instrument.

If I am The Lord's instrument, what do I sound like? Am I a brass, string, woodwind, percussion? Brought to His lips or held in a firm grip? Soft and melodic? Deep and earthy?

At any rate, I am valuable because I am one of them, and my scales are uniquely known.
and my scales are uniquely known.

The sadness

This sadness is not a wild crashing wave. It does not ebb nor flow to beat its heinous fists on my face and back til I finally fall.

No.

It is slow and steady and constant. So slight that I barely notice it rising until it is expanding in my lungs and then it finds its way out and down my face.

There is a certain person who I miss everyday. and everyday I try to be around people. but at some point I am alone. and that is when I notice The sadness has come.

What I mean to say is that it just seems like The sadness must prove something. Because it is so rare that I find myself this overcome by an emotion so pure to be one substance, a water, a sadness felt from loving someone so darkly and deeply and ignorantly and not being able to be with them at any capacity.



Are we meant to be with some people?
Is love a choice we make or that is made for us?
What do you let lead you: Your head or that heart?



This is a painting (by Ran Ortner)

Hope

There are some things, events, articles, spectacles, people that fall into your life from The Vastness That Is that give you so much hope.

so
much
hope.

be thankful for them



What has given you hope the past few days?