331b

i am sitting on my bed in a room with terribly sad bare walls and one lovely large window.
it's weird to think about missing a room, but i am going to miss 331b.

this semester has been such a full one. i am glad that it's over, but not in the way i have been glad to be done with semesters in the past. i am not glad that it's over because i'm empty of every emotion. i am not glad that it's over because school had become so stressful or such a huge burden. i am mostly glad that it's over because i know that it's time for me to rest and adventure all summer.

i wish i could rightfully describe all that i've learned this semester.

academically, it has been an interesting time. i took my first three-dimensional art classes this semester and they completely changed my artistic process and thinking. i had a professor that truly treated her students like peers (she called us "fellow scholars") and that encouraged me greatly. i fell in love with a language and was inspired greatly by the lilting sounds of french.

personally, i have been so incredibly blessed. i had the wonderful chance to make some new friends that i now love dearly. i will never look at studying in the cave or going to panera on tuesdays or sharing candy in classrooms quite the same. the people i had only really been acquaintances with last semester became people i could cherish. i also experienced what truly caring for someone is like and how that effects my life.

emotionally, i have been the most stable i've been in years. i'm not even kidding. i cried the first day of this year. i felt the weight of the previous few years creeping back into my heart and it startled me. when i got to school, i felt clueless and aimless and was craving for something completely new. that new thing was being happy. granted, there were times where i was tired, stressed, and confused. there were even a few times i was rather sad. regardless, the happy in my life has been steady. and that is a beautiful thing.

spiritually, i have been at peace. i could write a whole book about how peaceful my heart has been this semester, in spite of new things in my life that could make it unsettled. i would say Christ has been my rock, but that just seems so small. so i'll say He has been my mountain. He has surrounded me with His presence and taught me how to accept love and has filled me with peace.

artistically, this has been an incredibly inspiring time. i have been challenged so much that my whole artistic self/style is shifting. and i love it.

all of those things have been thought about in this room. on this bed. next to this window.
usually with a candle burning or music playing or the sound of David's voice telling me something new about himself. yes, it has been a lovely time in this little room. and that's that.

fifty two

year of our lord
two thousand and twelve:

to you, two thousand and twelve.

to the calming explorations of sounds the half-hearts, and the icy bridges. 

oh the abundant sunshine for all of the rambunctious law-breakers. 

how it did rain in the morning, how the heartache did swell in the evening, and all throughout

the glorious mountains remained.
the mountains who reminded me that grace and love and faith are abundant. 

divine blood filling the empty cups and the birthday of no one terribly important. 

all of the lazy artists, the do-nothings of society, thinking thoughts and creating beautiful things.

remember the adventure unparalleled? the pure hearts? the young dreams? the faithful Father?

trees with ghostly white petals.
stars in the sky. 

a friend who died.
and a thank you note to those dear little ones who kept me alive. 

the living too large and dying too old.
the trying to exist in reality. 

the comfort of darkness.
the joy of being in the presence of light. 

the blowing of too many kisses and that little ginger candy obsession. 

the notes to self. 

my pink, freckled shoulders.
the number nineteen.
many lazy lightening bugs. 

this dirty city and this filthy heart.
my beautiful ayiti, who takes turns haunting me and comforting me daily. 

a noodle-crazed panda. 

the fact that my friends are not sailors. 

old canoes and rough living. 

singing crickets and singing chad. 

Jesus the man who knew what it was like. 

the truly believing.

the river, so full of peace. 

those flashbulb memories. 

when i couldn't come out and really say "iloveyou".

the waning moon and the dying sun. 

the fact that i'm disappointing, my dear. 

those panic-stricken birds. 

the missingmissingmissing. 

scary/happy/lovely/nice/strange dreams. 

mysaltytears. 

mymountains. 

the no good heart that was so wrong. 

the fictional story about my dear sister and misplaced love. 

my love-affair with roan mt. 

may day merry making.

reminding myself to sieze the day. 

remember how i diagnosed myself with selective attention deficit disorder?

oh and those moon walkers

and that divine little boy doomed to die because he loves us and is obedient to his father

and finally, all of the children screaming for peace.

i have survived the end of the world.
i have seen love.
i have witnessed the strength that only grace can supply.
i have been reminded of my own darkness.
i have been comforted with the fact that it is not my own any longer.
life has gone on.
the breathing has begun. 

may grace and peace come to you, next year.
and may the love of Christ infest and infect you so i have no choice but to accept it.

thus ends fifty two weeks of writing.
thus begins a lifetime more.

Christmas.

every year, i have a different Christmas. i know that's a result of passing time and changing experiences. but it still takes getting used to.
this year, i didn't have a very long Christmas season. it really only hit me that it was Christmas a couple days ago. my mind has been full of questions and those questions have distracted me. not questions like "why?" and "how?" or "when?"

the questions in my mind have been the kind without the question marks.
like:
Jesus was born a perfect child who carried both death and life with Him his whole time on earth. He swallowed death for us, and the killing of death was the only way humanity could ever hope for life.

the kind of people that surrounded and admired Jesus when He was a child were the same kind of people who actively killed Him later.

we sing all these songs about how the night that Jesus was born was silent and holy and beautiful when the fact is, they were in a crowded little city in the middle of a census. mary was probably bedraggled and joseph's nerves were probably worn thin. Jesus, God of the universe, was not born a spotless babe. He was born gross and weird looking- like any baby. (don't get me wrong, i love babies, but they are are gross and weird looking at the very beginning...) the shepherds weren't sweet men with trimmed beards and the angels weren't these white, blonde-headed, winged, androgynous beings. it is wrong to  sugar coat these things. or it's just human nature to make the best of the situation.

seriously though, what is this Christmas thing all about? (i feel like Charlie Brown)

it is about a baby who was doomed to die by His own loving choice.
it is about a night when the heavens rejoiced and mourned.
it is about the fact that we all die. and through death, we all live.
it is about the end of the world and what happens afterwards.
it is about love. wondrous love.
it is about joy.
it is about peace.
and most of all, it is about hope.

a hope that won't let any of us go.

so we sing songs.
and we put up lights.
and we hang out with our families.
and we give eachother things we need and things we don't need.
and we watch silly movies where everything ends up as it should.
and we get excited about snow and pretty trees.

it's one day where we can stop and be thankful for the little boy that was born with the world on His shoulders. the Prince of Peace. born out of conflict. into a bleeding world.

happy christmas.
i could say "don't forget the reason for the season" or something cliche like that.
but i think i should say "continually remember the reason you're alive."

a little babe swallowed death for you. be thankful, be hopeful, have peace.

breathless

i woke up this morning on time.
i got to my 8:15 class on time.
i walked in the cold and felt alive.
today was beautiful because of those things.

i am now sitting at my desk in my room.
my ears are still cold from the walk i took in the damp evening.
i have my little desk lamp shining golden on me and knitted socks on my feet.
when i look to my right, there is a wall full of photographs. one of those photographs is of two little girls named Jenny and Nadine.
Jenny and Nadine are from Haiti.
they made me smile so much while i was with them.
they make me smile now.
Nadine with her funny pink bows and Jenny with her hands mid-clap.
tonight is beautiful because of those things.

the past year has left me breathless.
summer 2011 left me breathless. i saw children come to Christ and felt such a real community for the first time in my life.
fall 2011 left me breathless. all the darkness that had accumulated in my heart for the past few years infected my mind until i was under the control of my own sin and self-loathing. i wanted to kill myself, but was saved.
winter 2011 left me breathless. in Hosea it says that the Lord "will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth." that's how He came to me-gentle and real. this bleeding heart began one of the many healing processes it needed (needs, and will need) to go through.
spring 2012 left me breathless. i lost two people. one young and beautiful that i barely knew. one old and wise that i loved dearly and love more everyday. i was sick and tired and through. not with life, but with school and all i wanted was to move on.
summer 2012 left me breathless. i saw the most broken and the most beautiful place that i've ever seen. i met the strongest people. i saw God work huge things in little actions and words and prayers. i was humbled, isolated, and loved.

as this fall is coming to an end, i am beginning to catch my breath. or maybe i'm learning to breath a different way. i was talking to my mom over thanksgiving break about how little community i've found at school. how i felt a lone in my thoughts and beliefs and values and whatnot.
yesterday i began to realize. all this time i've been here, i've been wanting to "plug-in" or "put down roots" or "find fellowship." but that's not what God had for me.
this semester was about me and Jesus.
i get that now.
now don't get me wrong, i am not saying that i am not supposed to be fellowshipping or communing with other believers. what i'm saying is, i have spent the last year scrambling. just when i have thought i could start breathing, God has knocked the breath out of me. He has broken me. smashed me. crushed me. ground me into powder. mixed me with His grace. and now He is tenderly forming me into something new. i can feel it.
so although i've not completely "plugged in" to a group, i'm not worried.

Hosea one says this:
"Therefore, behold, I will allure her,
and will bring her into the wilderness,
and speak tenderly to her."

i had to make it to this special wilderness i'm in.
this new wilderness.
this wilderness where i can barely breathe because of all the past wildernesses. as i walk slowly through this, i hear a voice speaking tenderly to me.
it is Jesus.

cherry tomatoes

i've figured out the purpose of the grading system.
all my life (pretty much) i've been a good student. or i've cheated to seem like one. i've strived for a's and papers free of red markings and pats on the back and praise and every sort of accolade you can think of.
this is not because i've wanted to learn the topic well. if the school system really wanted people to learn, it would be grade-less and degree-less...but that's a different issue.
grades (and any other sorts of ranking/rewarding systems) exist because, more than anything else, humans are hungry for the assurance that they are okay.
from the day we are born, we want to know that everything's going to be alright. we want to know that we're alright.
think about it. when someone's grades are slipping, the first thing we think about is "i wonder if there's something going on at home" or some other cliche like that. the average american generally thinks that a person's (especially a young person's) academic performance is directly linked to their psychological condition. it's true.
now sometimes, this is the case. but personally, i think more often it is quite the opposite.
when everything around us is crumbling, we tend to cling on to something that will make us feel okay. we want assurance. we want to know that we're good at something or that we can succeed.
thus, the grade system.
i'm sure grades were originally conceived to reward those who worked hard and learned things thoroughly. now they have turned in to a necessary evil. something that consumes people and steals people's identities.
grades lie to young people everyday. i know. they've lied to me.
example: last year, i was taking 19 hours and working at the studio and heavily involved in church. i received a after a on my assignments and my professors loved me. i obviously was okay. my grades were great and people liked me.

uh. no.

i was freaking suicidal.
i wanted to die all of last fall semester. i was tired of life and tired of the pain all around me.
but still i strove for good grades. why?
because they lied to me.
they told me i was okay. they told me that everything was fine. they were something i could physically hold on to and display to everyone else to disguise my problems.
i had ran away from God.
and had began running towards academia.

fast forward one year.

my grades are the worst they've ever been. i have a b in all of my classes except one. i've gotten b after b on my papers. i'm not even that concerned, either. i'm actually very happy with school this year.
why?
because i know how okay i am. i also know how not-okay i am.
i don't need to be lied to.
i have been assured that it doesn't matter if i am "doing well."
no, no. it matters that i am living well.

i'm only taking fifteen hours next semester. that sounds like slacking off to me. even sharing that is slightly embarrassing. i'm excited though. because that means that i'll be rested and who knows, maybe i'll be well? what? is that even possible?

anyway, this is not a post to completely bash the grading system and school or say "hey, be a slacker!"
(i mean, i'm still trying and working hard)
this is just a post telling you that you're not okay. and if you are, it's probably definitely not because you have good grades. it's something so much more life-filled than that.

live on, friends.

p.s. i love cherry tomatoes and i just wanted to share that somehow.

forty seven

carpe diem!
he opened his eyes as the words shattered into little pieces all over his mind. while wondering if his dreams were actually real life (or vice-versa), he pulled on some jeans. his mom's voice could be heard in the next room coaxing his little sister out of bed. before he headed downstairs, he glanced at the mirror and nodded quickly. as he turned the hallway corner, he was faced with his little sister.
she was dressed in white.
he pointed to the banner in her hand, "what do you have, Claudia?"
it made him uneasy to see his buoyant little sister stand so very still. she didn't speak as she stretched her arms apart. as the banner was pulled tight, the words on it came into view.
carpe diem! 
it was painted on in eight-year-old brushstrokes.
he shivered a little as he walked past her and mumbled, "that's cool, sis."
his denim jacket lay on the banister. he put it on and pushed his hands into the pockets. something crumpled in his fingers. he pulled it out and smoothed it on the table as he ate his breakfast. it seemed to be a candy wrapper covered in vibrant designs. he strained his eyes to read the tiny print on the label.
carpe diem!
he said it out loud to himself many times. the first, "carpe diem." was stated in an apathetic tone. then next "carpe diem?" was asked in a bewildered way. the final, "carpe diem!" was not said but growled. he suspected his mom was pulling some sort of a joke. she had been telling him to get a life ever since his dad had died.
regardless of it being a joke or not, he wasn't laughing. he began to search for his mom to ask her what all of this was about and tell her he does have a life and so on. but she wasn't around. he grabbed his backpack full of books he never opened and walked outside.
his eyes flicked to his dad's car in the garage.
his dad had known very little of him. he had spent half of his life striving to preform, but his dad never noticed. then his dad died, so he stopped trying.
all these thoughts and disappointments were sprinting through his head as he walked to the bus stop. a car screeched to a halt so as to avoid hitting him. the window rolled down as the driver, his neighbor Lucas, began yelling. he flinched and expected a flood of explétives. but instead all that came out of Lucas's mouth was a loud and angry,
carpe diem!      
his eyes grew wide. this was too much.
"no!" he yelled back. then everything came. he yelled about how there was no point to everything. and how everyone expects too much of him for him to succeed, so why not just fail? he yelled about missing his dad. he yelled about hating his mom for no reason. he yelled about Claudia crying sometimes when he got angry.
all the time, Lucas the driver continued to repeat,
carpe diem!
it became said gentler and gentler until it was a comforting whisper.
by now tears were escaping his brown eyes.
the and Lucas the driver didn't see the car that was swiftly approaching.
there was a collision and an explosion.
carpe diem!
he opened his eyes as the words shattered into little pieces all over his mind. while wondering if his dreams were actually real life (or vice-versa), he pulled on some jeans.

*a note about the 52 weeks project: it has come to my attention that there are more than 5 weeks left in the year (not many, but i've still miscounted). i mean, i'll write til the end of the year, that's not the problem. the problem is how confusing it will be to see something labeled "fifty-three."
haha anyway, thanks for sticking with me for this long. we're almost done!

carpe diem.

let's not talk about things that we can break

somethings i've learned lately:

-love is inseparably joined with life. one cannot exist without the other. that's why humans are so unique. we naturally crave and destroy both life and love. crazy right?
-carpe diem. 'nough said.
-sleep becomes something that's a blessing and a curse. i have slept less this semester than ever before.
-you are obviously your harshest critic. cut yourself some slack. it's pretty much beautiful feeling. i have been less hard on myself about grades this semester than ever before and i love it. i am still excelling, but i'm less stressed out about it.
-life is a sucession of present realities. life is always now. alwaysalwaysalways
-there's a difference between being lonely, isolated, and independent. the line between all three is tiny.
-guitar's by far the most comforting instrument ever. to listen to. to play. to look at. to hold.
-the future is always going to be unknown. that's an old truth. but seriously, how often do you find yourself planning?
-night showers are the best way to de-stress before bed ever. that and hot oatmeal. oh the weird rituals you pick up when a student.
-courtney marie andrews is a musical goddess. i knew that already. you probably knew that already. but you know, you can kind of never stop realizing.

okay that's all.

title from this incredible song that you should listen to right now. go ahead and click this sentence. do it. 

litte fern.

i really like my very best friends.
i think i've written about that a lot...but it's true. i appreciate that the people that i love most are brilliantly creative and intelligent individuals.
i really like that part of my itunes library is music recorded by my dear ones.
i really like that some of my favorite authors and lyricists are people that i know inside out.
i really like that a few of my biggest inspirations for art, love, and life are those that i'm closest to.

all that being said, it's sometimes stifling to be so far from those friends. i feel like somehow our lives are just missing eachother.
however, through the music, art, writings...etc, they are apart of my life here.

how incredible is that.
sometimes it's just good to express thanks.

p.s. i know this has nothing to do with ferns. i was looking at the little fern on my desk when i began writing this.

journal entry/sometimes

October 30th
sometimes I feel so alive I could be dead.

like some how the blood coursing through me is actually only saltwater and I’m actually some weirdly shaped wave that’s just waiting to crash and wash over some dirty spot on the sidewalk at school.
sometimes I feel so alone that I’m claustrophobic. 

like the air around me is actually full of tons of people waiting until to hurt me or to be hurt because that’s all humans can honestly do to eachother.

sometimes I feel so young that I grow old.

like somehow I am burdened and aged by the fact I know and have lived so much less than I want.
sometimes I feel so cold that I’m burning.

like the rain is actually little bits of fire spreading on my skin and setting flame to the old body, just leaving the new, tender skin of my real self.
sometimes sometimes sometimes.
more like all the time.

all the time I feel dead, claustrophobic, old, and burning.

like somehow I’m going to be fine because I’m just as much of a mess as everyone I know.

that’s all. 

the end.

forty five

mountain fog fills your lungs
ice creeps into your heart
winter is entering intravenously

the trees have shed their skin
the sun has grown thin
November strips the mountain naked

climb to the top
and cast off
the things that you never needed
your eyes have grown old
and your fingers cold
hold onto
the thoughts you've never spoken

white snow is falling fast
it fills your small mouth
and freezes the ends of your eyelashes

the yellow grass on the balds
is beaten by the wind
as she pulls you toward the frigid cliffside

climb to the top
and cast off
the things that you never needed
your eyes have grown old
and your fingers cold
let go

but now they live with me

i used to know
where the night terrors go
after the sun wakes up

in general, right now.

so I haven't blogged in a while. I mean really blogged.
I guess I talked about camp, so that's partially untrue.

the truth is, I haven't written a lot at all lately.
there have been some things weighing heavily on my mind and even more heavily on my heart.
they've stifled my creative thoughts and caused me to just give up before I've even begun to try.
if you've ever been there, you know exactly what I'm talking about.
if you don't.
well, bless your heart.

anyway, God is incredibly loving. we all know this. but honestly, sometimes He gives us beautiful things that we don't ask for.

like fall break, for instance.

I drove home tired, nervous, and a bit depressed.
I've had a tough time with this semester.
God knew this. He knew I needed to spend time with people I love and who love me.
He knew I needed to let some things go.
He knew that in letting those things go, I would feel more relieved and revived than I've been in two months.
He sent photographs of little Haitians and a good friend who's moving in with me next year and a faithful friend who always loves me (even when I'm being dumb) just to show me that He really, truly loves me.

something else hit me this weekend.

what I'm going to do with my life has always been a mystery. there are some concrete options that I guess I can choose from. and there are these dreams that I cling to and want to choose even though they're not concrete.
since last spring, I have seen these two separate worlds being knit together. all of a sudden, my concrete options and "career paths" are flowing into the dreams. the "real" world is becoming a dreamscape.
I think that's a good thing.
I think God wants us to be dreamers.

I guess this is why I never post actual blog-like posts. I'm always so disjointed and unorganized with my thoughts.

but I guess all this to say I hope that God gives you rest and blessings. and I hope that, even if your "real" life careers and so on are already in existence, you never ever stop dreaming.

forty two

sent to jessica when I got home today:

Home. When I came over the hill and saw the mountain range I yelled because those mountains are mine.

monday mania

a list:
granola, almond milk, craisins. in a clown mug.

painting and john denver on vinyl with brandon

cold, cold rain

grey

new rain jacket

that's neon pink

yeahhhh

sufjan coming to chattanooga in a month or so

me going to chattanooga in a couple days or so

biking at night

sniffles

skipping

sleeping

coffee

a letter from a dear girl

plaid

louis armstrong and ella fitzgerald

edwin

the fishing line breaks
and we laugh
the rowboat rocks
and the waters crash
the trees stroke the tiny lake
and the morning light shines on your face



the cancer came and stole your breath
your gentle love was the only thing left
you're a good girl, you whispered once
then you closed your eyes



and waited for peace to come.

forty

i had this dream where i was facing a young man and he held

one of my hands and placed his
h
ead
on my chest. he was distress
ed and showed it through sweat on his forehead and glistening
eyes.
he asked "is everything going to be okay?"
an
d i said"
everything's going to be okay
everyday."

he tightened
his grip and mumbled
"everyday."

i woke,
up and my fingers were tingling.

no good heart

i've found myself in a constant state of need lately.

something written recently:

your coat hanger is empty

your worn hat is gone

your steps are slow and heavy

and your face is calm

you walk amongst the trees
into a clearing in the wood
you drop down to your knees

and cry “my heart is no good.”

i won’t pretend to call you stranger

when i see your face

i won’t pretend to call you friend

when i accept your embrace

i won’t pretend to call you nothin’ 

‘cause in my mind

your photograph is fadin’ 

in the harsh daylight

thick salty water 

washes over your thin mouth

remember when you left your father

for the promise of riches in the south

news has come
that you’re headin‘ home

you know you’ve got no one

you’ve got no more earth left to roam

i won’t pretend to call you stranger

when i see your face

i won’t pretend to call you friend

when i accept your embrace

i won’t pretend to call you nothin’ 

‘cause in my mind

your photograph is fadin’ 

in the harsh daylight

and i won’t pretend to call you lover

‘cause i’m through with bidin’ my time

my heart hasn’t found another

but these mountains are all mine

see the sun gives me grace

and the wind she speaks
and i’ve erased your face

from the cliffs and the creeks

i won’t pretend to call you stranger

when i see your face

i won’t pretend to call you friend

when i accept your embrace

i won’t pretend to call you nothin’ 

a dull ache part two

a dull ache

thirty eight

"iamjusttiredofmissingyou."
the words echo inside my mind
crashing against the walls of my brain
causing my vision to blur and my eyes to smart

iamjusttiredofmissingyoutoo.
tired of having dreams where i feel you with me
i wake up to the sun shining cruelly on me
she reminds me that i am here and you are not

"iamjusttiredofmissingyou."
the words sound as far away from me as you are.