unpacking thoughts while packing up everything else

because i'm moving into an apartment with a few other girls, i had been planning on going through my things pretty thoroughly. then my mom said she wanted to make some changes to the room and asked me if i would pack up all my other stuff. while purging clothes and snippets of fabric and knick-knacks and such, i found tons of my older artwork. it's been kind of weird to look at my work from a few years ago. it's kind of been nice, too.

i started taking art classes at the college level when i was sixteen (at chatt state...so you know). i was so hooked and on fire. my adolescent dreams were definitely of my work being shown in galleries across the world and travel and the busy life that being a (successful) practicing artist would be. my passion was working in the darkroom. today, as i opened a huge box of HUGE prints (oh how wonderfully large those prints are), i realized how much photography consumed me. it kind of sounds ridiculous, but it's true. i wouldn't eat or drink or sleep or hang out with friends or anything because i was in the darkroom. i clearly remember spending 8-12 hours straight in there. just working and working and working. i only came out for air to glance at a test strip or stare at a negative or compare huge (dripping wet) prints. i can still remember always smelling like chemicals and feeling so fulfilled after looking at the filled drying line at the end of the work day.
all that to say, i do miss it. that time (artistically) was my favorite. i miss the passionate, enthusiastic experience of being good at something and being really close to my professor and having lunch in his office and him critiquing me harshly (and truthfully and constructively) and growing so quickly.
i spent all summer thinking about sculpture and how my focus has shifted to that, but i don't think i'm done with the analog photography stage of my life.

just some thoughts.
now i need to put more things in boxes.

(i also looked at my paintings. and laughed a lot. i am an awful painter. someday i might understand how to paint. but as for now, it's a mystery)

people always write that sentimental new year's post

so i've put this one off.
i've decided that i am not making any sort of resolutions this year. (except to appreciate purple more. i feel i've always overlooked it)
no projects. (except this book called "642 things to write about")
complete freedom.
complete release of all that was shackling me last year. (and previous years)

i want to treat this year like a sweet little infant.
it's clean, new, and i'm not going to assume anything about it.

all i know is:
it's going to sound like this

it's going to look like this

and it's going to be full of love and grace and peace.
and i will be condemned by my own heart no longer.

"for whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart.
and He knows everything."

first john three, verse twenty

nothing, really.

"and then,” she whispered (to no one in particular)”and then we see that in the end, all she misses are his kisses.” she bit her lip and half-closed her eyes.

a dull ache part two

a dull ache

.

unedited.

noisy

three little things.

a newer idea:


the rain it fell from the silver sky
you grabbed my hand and the thunder sounded
we ran down the trail towards and old oak tree
slipping on the stones and the shining leaves


a newer photograph:

a newer favorite song

happy birthday Jessica

once there was a girl and her friend.
coffee they drank a lot, the end.
except they haven't ended the story yet, for real.
there are still two hearts in kayaks for them to steal.
it all began in their hammocks so fine.
they were laying in the sun and wasting away time.



then what to their wondering eyes did appear?
two young boys with hearts (one had a thick beard!)
as the strapping young lads from their car did emerge
a feeling of true love in the girl's heart did surge.
then the boys took off their shirts and the girls giggled and rolled.
then the boys unloaded their kayaks and paddles to hold.



one was tall with wild, curly locks.
to prepare for adventure, he shed his thick socks.
the other wore a flat-bill as green as the trees.
the way they readied for the river made the girls weak in the knees.



the girls packed up their hammocks and turned to go
-hoping that soon alongside the boys (in kayaks) they would row.
the boys spotted the girls and it was love at first sight.
so they paddled off together in the afternoon light.



I would tell you how it all ended, but I'm sorry, I just won't.
because the girls in this story are liberated women and they do what they want.

the end.

pictures.

a tree grows through it.

As I'm sitting here, eating a whole giant carrot,(it's huge, trust me) I can't help but think about the fact that in two weeks I'll turn nineteen.
Nineteen is pretty much a no-big-deal year-I understand that fully.
However, the other day my friend and I were talking and he said something about not thinking the same at all as last year-even last semester.
As I consume this monstrous carrot (so delicious), I can say, without a doubt, my thinking has made almost a 180 degree turn since last year.
My eighteenth year has been full of huge "AHA!" moments that have grown me closer to my God (and consequently closer to who I need to be). I have felt the overwhelming presence of God's love. I have felt the thrill of leading someone to Christ. I have been apart of a beautiful Christian community. I have realized my neediness for Christ. I have seen the ugly, disgusting truth about my own heart. I have felt the freedom of forgiveness. I have been blinded by the darkness of the valley of the shadow of death.
I have been mad at God. I have made decisions about my future. I have tasted the calm waters and walked about the green pastures.
all of these wonderful, awful, hard, beautiful, painful, and freeing things came from a Father that loves me.
realizing that this night, with my (now half-devoured) carrot, is the best birthday present ever.
I cannot wait to see where God takes me this year.
I know it will be good.

Climbing up walls with a tree growing through it is so worth the risk and bloodshed.
Coffee three times a day is worth the insomnia.
Headaches are so worth the late-night reading.
And today is so worth the wait of each yesterday.

five

disclaimer: this is completely incorrect and atrocheeous. (see what I did there?) (trochee is a word that's accented on the first syllable)...

the cold makes the corners of the windows so white.
coffee and my dear are my morning companions.
quiet words about the Maker are spoken with delight.
for me and my friend are daughters of Zion.
little laughs come from both of our young lips,
as we share our life's joy.
from our coffee, we take many little sips.
and the rain falls, so coy.
the greyness of the day beckons us near.
ah, how lovely is today and are you, my dear.

opossum

I found a dead opossum in my yard a couple weeks ago.
so me and my funny friends took pictures with it.
you know, nothing too crazy.

I'm starting my last semester of Chattanooga State tomorrow. I thought I would be bittersweet...but I'm not.
I cannot wait until I am done. I think they do a great thing there and help many people. I just can't take the oppressive spirit of it all. The attitude of most of the students is a dark and sort of confused flippancy. The other students are pretty desperate and school is their last-ditch effort.
It's heartbreaking.
I hope I can be a little light in the darkness.
and spread what my friend calls "Mary-ness" (I go by Mary there...it's my first name on the role) everywhere.
the beginning of the end. dun dun dunnnnnnn.

hello 2012

This is who I spent my New Year's with. trust me, it was fun.

I'm welcoming the new year with open arms. I'm quite ready for things to progress in my life and this year holds many changes that will result in progressing.
I'm lucky to have few regrets (if any, really) from last year. I feel like 2011 was lived to the very fullest, in spite of the dark semester I had this fall. I'm not making any resolutions this year. I'm going to let things evolve naturally and just live and not talk about living as much. I hope that makes sense.
So happy new year. I hope last year was lovely. I hope this year will be even lovelier.

I am starting a 52 weeks project. Which I will update on my Flickr (there's a little thing up in the left corner)
A picture a week. I know I can handle that.

nostalgia

nos·tal·gia   [no-stal-juh, -jee-uh, nuh-]
noun
1.
a wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one's life, to one's home or homeland, or to one's family and friends; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time: a nostalgia for her camp days.

the usual

drinking coffee
reminiscing
listening to this

if you do what you do

just a picture today.


title song

come swiftly and run

Bring a torch, Jeanette, Isabella
Bring a torch, come swiftly and run
Christ is born tell the folk of the village
Jesus is sleeping in the manger
Ah, ah, beautiful is the mother
Ah, ah, beautiful is her Son.

Hasten now good folk of the village
Hasten now the Christ-child to see
You will find Him asleep in the manger
Quietly come and whisper softly
Hush, hush, peacefully now He slumbers
Hush, hush, peacefully now He sleeps.

crazy. cray cray. crazers.

just because life is too short to be too boring.
superlative adventures are always an option.
hilarious movies that are only funny to the people making them are a must.
absolutely awful and mostly embarrassing pictures should be taken.
abbreviating words is totes never a good idea. never. teriyaki.
getting "golden monkey tea" smell waved at me is hilarious.
hollister is terrifying.
Taco Bell is delicious. not.
malls are awful.
Jenny and I spent practically a whole day there.
but that's to be expected...because we're crazy.
Christmas Eve is tomorrow.
expect a sentimental post or something.

#life

There are some times when life is so vividly good, bad, or otherwise that you have to question: is this real?
The answer is twofold I think.
Yes, it's real. You're living life in the truest sense.
No, it's not real. You feel this way because you're getting a glimpse of eternity.
The first part of Ecclesiastes 3:11 says "He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in man's heart..."
We were made for real life.