Monday, January 31, 2011

beautiful descriptions of faith and purpose:

I take pen and paper out and write:

Words of divine consciousness: moral exaltation; lasting feelings of elevation, elation, joy; a quickening of the moral sense, which strikes one as more important than an intellectual understanding of things; an alignment of the universe along moral lines, not intellectual ones; a realization that the founding principle of existence is what we call love, which works itself out sometimes not clearly, not cleanly, not immediately, nonetheless ineluctably.

I pause. What of God's silence? I think it over. I add:

An intellect confounded yet a trusting sense of presence and of ultimate purpose.

- Yann Martel in The Life of Pi

'An intellect confounded yet a trusting sense of presence and of ultimate purpose.' Isn't that it after all? I don't understand what I am here for; my purpose, my career, my future (for God's sake what I should do next week). I cant conceptualize the breadth of my purpose, the universe, the grand scheme; but I feel a sense of presence, there is something within me greater than me. I feel connected, I know I am more than skin and bones, more than survival. I know there is a purpose. I trust it. And what I have is my intellect, so although I am confounded, I will keep seeking knowledge. I will keep trying to find out why it is that I am here, how I fit into all this. Although I may not be able to answer all the questions, I will keep questioning and growing and itching and wondering; I have to believe that that is how I will grow closer to God and to his purpose for me.

I am reminded of Thomas Merton's Prayer for Discernment:

O Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going
I do not see the road ahead of me,
I cannot know for certain where it will end.

Nor do I really know myself,
And the fact that I think
I am following Your will
Does not mean that I am actually doing so.

But I believe
That the desire to please You
Does in fact please You.
And I hope I have that desire
In all that I am doing.

I hope that I will never do anything
Apart from that desire to please You.
And I know that if I do this
You will lead me by the right road,
Though I may know nothing about it.

Therefor I will trust You always
Though I may seem to be lost
And in the shadow of death.
I will not fear,
for You are ever with me,
And You will never leave me
To make my journey alone.

I have no idea where I am going; Nor do I really know myself; But I believe that my desire to please You does in fact please You; And I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing.

I'm confused. But I trust this presence I feel in me. I know I have a purpose. But I can't figure out what it is. I am trying. I am searching. I am learning. I believe that this effort has to be bringing me closer to God; to my purpose. I don't feel focused all the time, but I am trying to put this effort into everything that I am doing. Please help me stay focused God. That's about it, right?

more artifacts from milwaukee:

Friday, January 28, 2011

two things that made me smile today:




1019A Brady Street

I am working on a project with my friend Katrin Sticha about my former (her current) bedroom in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Over the last five years I have moved eight times. I've found that I am especially sensitive about moving out of my bedroom. I am a burrower, a home-maker, a cocooner; leaving a bedroom is like leaving a part of my life behind. It is closure and uncertainty and finality and deep breaths.

Last May, as I prepared to move out of my last Milwaukee apartment and into the literal unknown, Katrin was kind enough to spend a week in my bedroom holding my hand as I retold stories, read journals, stared into images, hurt, smiled, shook my wrists, and went on fresh air walks. This time was especially important for both of us because Katrin, two years younger than myself, had signed the lease to move into my apartment when I moved out. She would literally be living in my empty space. It was like a ceremonial passing on or something. It was strange and comforting. As I found myself unable to dismantle my nest, Katrin, whom is also a collector and a documenter, decided to record each object I packed as a sort of manifesto of our room. The process became easier; I felt like we weren't packing away my Milwaukee life but rather recording what had been.

Over the last nine months I have been slowly cleaning up the photos of my artifacts. For the next few days, I am going to be posting a few of the images which will eventually be compiled into a book. Hopefully, in May of 2012, the roles will reverse and I will be able to assist Katrin with her own 1019A book.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Once i hade a phote teacher who told me alleys were so cliche,

And they are, but i still love them.
I walk past this alley everyday on the way to and from work.
I actually looked at it yesterday.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

today I am going to start to blog in a new way.

I am going to write more words, thoughts,
things I have been chewing on.

An Idea I Ran Into By (Happy) Accident:

Last night. Actually yesterday, I was overcome with uncreativity. Sometimes that happens, I think to myself about blobbish things and vegetating and wonder if I can make anything. When I feel like this I back myself into a corner; its no good.
I often end up baking when I feel uncreative. I've never thought about this habit critically, but I guess baking is my way to make something in a pinch; prove to myself I am still alive a little. Baking allows me so easily to transfer that creativity to others. Its an easy medium for sharing. Its casual, kind, not too critically critiqued when it arrives in a zip lock baggie. Baking makes me feel like I can add to the world a little bit, give someone a smile. Its immediate satisfaction for me when I am in a blob. I'm not sure where to go with this realization, but its something I thought of yesterday.

I have just finished reading Travelling with Pomegranates by a mother and daughter, Sue Monk Kidd and Anne Kidd Taylor. The book was what I was craving on a few different levels. Specifically, I was drawn to the the two women's experiences with feminine divinity. Sue Monk Kidd spoke eloquently about her belief that feminine figures do not just represent biological fertility and creation, but creation in general. She called regularly on Mary to guide her creativity. I wrote in my journal last night:

"I can't help but smell my cupcakes as I pray to Mary for creative guidance. The plee to create what can help, how I can add to the world the best I can-- which world I belong in. Is it the elephant in the room? Its what has always been comfort, home, companionship, creativity, its what I've always shared--its how I show love."

This is what I made
(it is a berry cupcake with cream cheese frosting):

it looks like this inside:


I also started to experiment with that beautiful cake I posted yesterday. Clearly, I failed on try one; my layers fell in on themselves rather than remaining horizontally stacked and my food coloring was much stronger than I anticipated. Tonight my baking-expert best friend and I are going to go for try two:

this post has proven to me that I need to stop taking photos with my iphone. Better quality next time I promise.

Baking reminds me of my limits. It proves to me that I have to work to hone a craft. Sometimes taking risks works out wonderfully and I create a happy accident (crushing raspberries up in my cake batter), sometimes those accidents are flops (green gooey cake); either way its a constant process. I'm always picking up little hints and building from experience. When I bake, there isn't much pressure, either way I can try again tomorrow. Why do I have such trouble looking at my other crafts this way?

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

i think i will come home. shit, i am home.

today (this year thus far) i am feeling uncreative.
today i love:(constellations of the north american hemisphere)
from unruly-things.com
and:
made by Leah Rosenberg