Creativity

I was working on some speech write-ups for Comm class when I remembered my professor mentioning a guy I should look up on TED...
I couldn't remember his name, but I googled some stuff and found this amazing video on creativity and education, and how education stifles it.

the TED talk:

Rain and Shane

Shane Claiborne is now officially my favorite speaker. yep. :)
He had some awesome stuff to say about getting the church back to being the way the church was meant to be, where they had "everything in common" with one another. If one person had more than they needed, they gave their excess to those who had less than they needed. It's about unity and community, not individualism. Yes, our faith is supposed to be personal, but not individual. It's supposed to be personal and public. I also really liked what he said about singleness; pretty much that it's ok to be single. We are called to love God, first and foremost. We are not first and foremost called to have a boyfriend or get married and have children. It's ok to be single. If you think about it, Paul also said it was ok to be single. He told people to marry if they would marry, but to be single if they would be single... or something like that. In life, we are not expected to get married. We are, out of God's love for us and our love for him expected to follow God and spread his love and light and life to all peoples. Can I best serve God in my singleness or if I'm preoccupied with getting out of my singleness? Shane had some great stuff to say. He serves a great God who had some great stuff to tell us, and God chose a great vessel to tell it through.

On to the rain. I think the rain and the Shane kind of go together. :) I see the rain as God spilling down his blessing on us and being like, "yes! look at all these people coming to hear truth on a Thursday night!"... it was God's way of touching the earth and bringing joy. ...and it didn't just spit... it spat... then it sprinkled... then it rained... then it began to pour. I left my huge drawing pad in my locker in mcnally, took off my shoes, rolled up my pants... and walked barefoot back to Hart. What a thrill!... the whole time I couldn't help but sing praise to God. Blessed be he that reigns now, reigned in the past and will reign forever more. Amen.

in the midst of suffering...

the last couple days, Biola has held its annual torrey conference, this year on suffering. we have had some incredible speakers. they have told us some incredible things, stuff that all of us needed to hear, because on some level, all of us relate to suffering. we all suffer. we are encouraged to comfort those around us who suffer, and to seek out other people if we are suffering.
but in suffering, who do i seek out? i know that in suffering, God is my number one, he is the lifeline, but how do i tell others i need help and who do i tell?
for the past year and a half that i have been "away" from home, at college, i have not been a very jubilant person. i have had sorrows and i have had joys, but covering it all has been this layer, this thin blanket of depression. my world was altered, drastically, and i don't know how to share the hardship of transition with someone and have them help me through it when the people i talk to don't understand it, or they don't understand the depth of pain that it has caused me, the depth of withdrawal from what was into what is.
...and sometimes i think feeling that pain of loss of home is stupid. i don't like recognizing it as pain; i'd rather shove it under a rug and pretend it's not there, but it is. the people i have talked to either just want everything to be happy and perfect instantly, or i don't feel like they really empathize, or like i said before, they don't understand the depth of the hurt. grief is a process. it's not instantaneous, but i can't walk it alone. yet, who do i have to walk it with? yes, God, but who else? who can i trust to walk with me? yah, my closest friends from high school. where are they? everywhere but here. scattered all over the world.
as i wrote in a status earlier this year on facebook, "now hiring: mentor or resident best friend"... the offer stands.
i'm tired of walking alone.

Rainy Days...

...Roll my blues away?

I honestly confess to spending my entire afternoon/evening in my room. It was delightful. I watched my favorite show for far too many hours, but I think I needed the break from life and school. Microwave-made pasta isn't too shabby, either... or the last of my goldfish crackers dipped in hummus. ...and then marshmallows and chocolate for dessert!... :) it made me so happy.

I was mad at the washing machine, though... it didn't wash my clothes like it promised, so I had to spend an extra dollar to re-wash them... most of them were dry when i took them out to be dried and the bottom ones had soap on them still... like... un-dissolved powdery white stuff.

Beauty Tips

Tonight I was reminded about a poem I once printed out and hung on my wall, right above my bed; it was a good place for it to be.
I thought I should share it with you; it's inspiring.

Beauty Tipsby Audrey Hepburn

For attractive lips, Speak words of kindness.

For lovely eyes, Seek out the good in people.

For a slim figure, Share your food with the hungry.

For beautiful hair, Let a child run his or her fingers through it once a day.

For poise, Walk with the knowledge you'll never walk alone.

People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed and redeemed; Never throw out anybody.

Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you'll find one at the end of your arm.

As you grow older you will discover that you have two hands; one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.

The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides.

The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, but true beauty in a Woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she knows.

And the beauty of a woman, with passing years only grows!

Oh Life, how I love thee...

Today, the day I must forever record in history. Maybe not. And no, it wasn't terrible, it was good, but my water bottle hates me.
So... a breakdown of it all:

7:30am -- drag self out of bed and get dressed.
8:00am -- arrive at work....
10:00am -- leave work and go to room to get stuff for 4D...

...after this I went to student services to add flex to my card; yes, I did already almost spend $100 of flex... and I've only been here a month... heheh... not so good.

...then I checked mail. Nothing. again. send me stuff. :) ;) :D

...then I went to the caf. for lunch... alone. because i was having trouble getting a hold of people to eat with.

...then halfway through eating, I hear a familiar voice behind me... umm... so... you didn't even say hi? (Just giving you trouble... but I did find it rather comical that you didn't even notice i was sitting right in front of you.)

...then i finished lunch and went to the bookstore to get notecards and pens (since I had like 1 left and was paranoid about it dying)... and when i checked out i was very disorganized with the whole debit card thing and forgetting i had to get my id out since i forgot they rung it up as credit and it was thus needed... and the guy behind the counter didn't seem very thrilled at my being a scatter brain... it took me forever to sign the receipt thing for instance because i had trouble finding the pen on the counter... yah. interesting start to a lovely day... (besides the fact that though I got a ton of sleep last night, i was still really tired...)

...then 4D... thankfully we got out early and all we did was watch Yes Men... I actually don't mind that class most of the time, but considering I had a speech tonight...

...then I went to Albertson's and bought marshmallows and cereal for my how-to speech (I did it on making rice crispy treats...)... and also got some water and some california rolls (fake sushi, heh. :D)... for dinner.

...then........ well, I'll just skip a bunch... but got ready for speech and then gave speech... and actually did very well on the speech, and on my midterm that i got back... but as i was packing up, i threw my water bottle in my bag, but the lid wasn't fully closed, so my cell phone got a bath... and my purse was drenched. I thought everything was ok... just pray my cell phone gets out of its coma soon.

...and now I have a headache, cuz the water ended up in my bag and on my cellphone... and I didn't get to drink it... and I think I'm dehydrated... and I have a big thrilling test tomorrow. bleah.

yah... that's my day in a nutshell... good, sprinkled with annoying.

only time can tell

sometimes i wish
i could tell you the things that run through my mind
but sometimes i know
that some secrets are better kept than spoken.

sometimes i wish
i could decipher what was in my head
but sometimes i know
that with some things, only time can tell.

if you could see my heart and the running dialogue in my mind
if you understood everything that was tearing me in all directions
maybe you could see me
maybe you could understand

but sometimes i fear
that if i were to tell the secrets of my heart
and you were to hear them
they would no longer be secret,
and are you the one whose ears they are meant to tell?

maybe this is why
my thoughts labor within me
a constant pull between one or another.
sometimes i wish i didn't have to choose a side
that perhaps i could ride
on a white picket fence for awhile.
but i know that isn't fair
to be so in-between about something that doesn't affect just me.
but if i choose too hastily,
maybe i'll just choose what's easy;
i like to be free.

sometimes i wish
i could tell you the things that run through my mind
but sometimes i know
that some secrets are better kept than spoken.

sometimes i wish
i could decipher what was in my head
but sometimes i know
that with some things, only time can tell.

so much to say...

my mind keeps reeling with so many thoughts that deserve to be penned, or typed, as the case may be. i was sitting in my young adult literature class tonight realizing, yet again, how little i understand about popular teen culture -- which is bad, since that's kind of what the class is about. Books written for teenagers, young adult literature, is supposed to speak to the popular culture of a teen, but I was never a part of that culture. Sure, i cared what people thought of me, a lot actually, and I still do, sometimes, but I never gave in to popular MEDIA culture... or fashion... i've always had my own style, my own thing... I wear something if it's cute or I like how it looks on me or whatever... but it has to suit me... and a lot of time "fashionable stuff" doesn't really suit me. I've never had a crush on a movie star; how realistic is it for some 30 something to fall in love with me, 19, previously younger than that? I never bought into that. I wouldn't even admit it, most of the time, if I thought an actor was cute... or even a boy my own age... because it's never really been about looks for me. I love getting inside a person, finding out who they really are, who they were made to be. I fall in love with the core of a person... with who they are and how they are letting that shine, not in love with their exterior. What is an exterior but wrapping on a present? The true gift is what is inside... and that's not supposed to be cliche or mushy at all... it's what I really believe. The more I know a person, the more I know both their flaws and their good qualities, the more I love them, because they have allowed me to see their humanity... they have let me glimpse a true portrait of their soul and that is refreshing... because all people make mistakes and everyone has a closet filled with cobwebbed memories from the past that they wish never existed... everyone has gone through stuff that has shaped them into who they are, good or bad. What frustrates me more than anything is when people hide who they really are for fear of rejection. I reject you for your fake perfection... if you showed me who you really were, I would love you.
that may sound twisted, I don't know... but I really do despise perfection, because it is an unattainable concept... and although we are to be "perfect as Christ also was perfect"... (what does that even mean?) perfection in this life really isn't attainable, so stop wasting your time trying to be that way!... sorry, i'm mostly screaming at myself... because I know that I hate being wrong and I hate failure of any kind... but I also know that failure is ok and being wrong is ok... and they are even good, they build character. what i hate most about perfection, however, is when people put up the facade of perfection... oh how much they must work to keep it up, and i don't envy the struggle... (though in some sinister way i admire it... sinister simply because facades tear at the core of who a person is...)... but a person who is easy for me to love is a person who doesn't let fears of acceptance define them... they accept and love who they are and they shine because they're ok with being imperfect... and embrace it even.
yah... just my thoughts at the moment. don't sue me, i may be partially insane. one can never quite be sure... but anyone's thoughts are valid proof that a person indeed thinks... and is not sucked into a non-thinking, always accepting void of humanity that always follows all the fish ahead of them in a stream going to the pretty golden palace of popularity which they will later find out is really a ruse to get them to be part of a fish fry... the fish part... (I mean, if they danced really well or kept up the perfect act long enough they might survive... but most don't... fish fries are harsh when you're the fish.)

Starlight

Grasping at a star with my fingertips
Slowly, coming to grips
With a place that I thought I would never find
happiness, oh I've changed my mind

All the desert seems to have gone so green
Starin' at it, oh what could it mean
Tiny little plants out makin' a scene
Happiness, purest bliss
Has come again, what a God-send

And I thank you for the green
On the side of the fence that's mine
Thanks for contentment in a place
I could only find, was dry.

oh-oh, oh, ooh ooh

and so I'm

Grasping at a star with my fingertips
Slowly, coming to grips
with a place that I thought I would never find
happiness, oh I've changed my mind

Rain fallin' in that driest place
Slowly, beginning to lace
Lackluster brown with a lovely green
Beauty, or so it seems
Has come again, what a God-send

And I thank you for the green
On the side of the fence that's mine
Thanks for contentment in a place
I could only find, was dry.

oh-oh, oh oh ooh

starlight
star
brightest light
darkest night

oh-oh, oh.

Tears scatter and fall like leaves, autumn is almost here

What was summer is now coming to an end.
what was beautiful begins to fade.
The colors are less bright
The sounds less jubilant
The smells less alluring.
Take my hand and pull me up from this sadness that lurks
Tears tempt to spill over -- for what?
For people and memories that will soon just be that, a memory.
Nothing more or less.
I think it really struck me when Callan mentioned at dinner tonight how sad it is that there are some people met this summer that we will never see again.
It broke my heart.

Breaks my Heart

There are some kids at camp this week suffering from a degenerative disease that keeps them wheelchair ridden and only gets worse with age... and it breaks my heart. They are such amazing people, and they've been through so much. Tears flood my eyes as I write this. Earlier, I was thinking a lot about it, and I wrote a song... kind of my thoughts. These are my thoughts.

I just gotta be brave
gotta make it through today
pushing through the pain of being different

and though some may stop and stare
some walk away in fear
some saying nervously, "how are you today"

Lord, I know you give me strength...

to fight it all away
wear a smile on my face
live a life of praise
even when my arms are too weak to raise.

to notice all that's good
appreciate the little things
takes away a little angst
from being so unheard, a title undeserved.

That's the cry I find
resonating from those confined
in situations undefined
by who they are
and it breaks my heart
breaks my heart.


Those are all the words, though the exact order and repetitions of the paragraphs have not been laid out.

...

i'm so frustrated being sick... i can't hear... and i keep being asked stuff by people like... wait, are you sick? do you have swine flu? how are you?... and with all the talking i've been doing, and the fact that i still have gone to work, it's no wonder i'm not better yet. i wish i could roll up in a corner and sleep for hours, then wake up and be good again... or... actually, i mostly wish i was in manila right now with my parents rolled up in the security of being at home... knowing for certain that only my best interest is in mind... feeling free to BE sick, which in turn would allow me to get better... and just having my mom and dad there. that would make a big difference. if i could i would hug my mom right now, a really big hug... and let her hold me for hours, while i could cry at the frustration of not feeling at my best. people don't understand. they either completely ignore me, or they won't leave me be. i need my space so i can get better... but... i just wish i had someone to love on me a bit more... someone who knows me... (like my mom)... i'm not fond of nurses, and i'm not fond of the fact that i have to go through the nurse to get any kind of medicine to help me feel better... i just... want it all to go away. why can't i be on a planet all my own and soak up the world through my fingertips... to breathe freely and live without fear of condemnation. i guess part of my frustration and fear is that i feel like it's not ok to be sick... and it's like i'm looked down upon. i didn't ask this on myself. if only i could travel to Lewis' Perelandra...

Roller coasters have never been my favorite.

...

i've been thinking about culture.
why do people connect with each other through common media? why is it that media and technology rule lives? there has got to be more to a person than their relationship to media. it is true that ones responses to something disclose stuff about them... but i guess it's just that that's not my language. how is life treating you? what's really going on with you? i roll mad deep, yo. :P i guess it's just hard because i'm still trying to figure out how i want myself to be reflected through my media choices. is there a right and wrong answer? i find so many things interesting for their own purposes... i like being exposed to new ideas, even if i don't really agree with them. i was going to write a whole blog post about being at camp, but i wasn't inspired with words to say, thus i have written this, instead. i know i have a lot more to say about it, but my thoughts must first formulate. i just feel like technology is another one of those masks that people put up to hide themselves... or maybe technology really is a part of the identity of some... i don't know. i'm just different. i value different stuff.

second chance

maybe if you forget me
maybe if you turn your back away
maybe we could meet again.

first impressions make quick judgments
on whether a person is worthy to get to know
but first impressions are only quick snapshots
a moment in time.

maybe if you forget me
maybe if you turn your back away
maybe we could meet again.

is it fair if that first impression
was tainted by a world upside-down?
if my life was momentarily chaotic
and i wasn't really me?

maybe if you forget me
maybe if you turn your back away
maybe we could meet again

and if we met again i know
that you'd find me to be far more
pleasant than before,
ready to greet you with a smile.

because some days i couldn't smile
my face would only frown
i'd wave "hi"
but i think i let you down.

and you is not one person out of a crowd
but everyone i feel i let down
or didn't really get to know
because i let my mask of pain
consume me.

too long

it's been too long
since sand has touched my feet
since wind has blown waves
water rushing beneath me
it's been too long
since this world was ours

it's been too long
since we've walked side by side
since whispers were shared
secrets sealed in wax
it's been too long
since this world was ours.

just to be free
to walk side by side
to talk into the night
to see your face again

just to be free
not bound by time and space
or any other thing
but to love.

through the mist

through the fog the mist
i find
something i would dismiss
but i know
that something so beauteous as this
should not
go unnoticed.

from the sky a light i see
its beams
glistening clearly
on droplets
reflecting from every
little bit
of sea...

and it hits me.

this light is your light.
this rain is your rain
the darkness is there
to let your light shine

this light is your light
this rain is your rain
this pain is here
to let your healing shine

but even when i find my day ain't turning out right
there's still a silver lining that shines so bright
I just have to find it and dwell in your might
because... everything... seems to turn out alright.

...

sometimes i cry
sometimes i wonder why
this world is falling out
from under me

sometimes i scream
sometimes this life doesn't seem
like it could be worse
than it is

but i take all that negativity
and channel it into this energy
to write a song
even if it's not that long.

maybe it's just the many things i have to do
with so little time to do it all
all the stress surrounding me and making me
feel the need to implode.

and i cry out, i scream for you to take me from this mire
and i cry out, i scream, really it's my one desire
that i not be in this place much more
i'm beginning to abhor
this feeling that i lack contentment
really it's a grand resentment
not feeling in touch with reality
or anything like practicality
want your arms so lovingly
embrace me reassuringly
tell me it will be alright
even though if i had sight
i could see that everything was falling apart...
from sanity to depart.

human

the mask. the facade. the display to others of something other than we are. yet, in the end we are still human.

i find myself most drawn to people when i see a flaw in them, when they show me they are human... sometimes it's hard to really genuinely understand that about people until they show themselves flawed. flaws are the most endearing of things. by telling me that you're not perfect, you're placing yourself on my level... because I am CERTAINLY NOT perfect. I have so many flaws and downfalls, i could fill a book describing them... yet, it's so easy to put up the facade of perfection... i do it, too. i only show people what is brilliant about me and mask my flaws... i put on some concealer and lipstick and mascara, and *bam* i'm a different person. what's funny to me, speaking of external facades, and maybe even internal ones, is that people are still most drawn to the most perfect seeming people. the people with the perfect hair, the perfect teeth, the symmetrical face, the expensive makeup... the constant smile, even if plastered on... the fashionable clothes... the lean body... i guess it's because we live in a society of perfection.
but i despise perfection. maybe it's because i'm so imperfect, but mostly because it's not honest. as humans, we are INCAPABLE of attaining perfection... and so to sell yourself to others as perfect is saying that you consider yourself above others, and that is not endearing. If i find out that you also struggle with something in life, then i love you all the more, because in your imperfections... i guess i find a place i can be needed... a place i can serve... and in imperfections i can find a friend, because i have been and am there, in that imperfectness.

in the stillness

YOU speak.

in the quiet, i can hear YOUR voice.

in the loud bustle, all i can hear are my thoughts whirring through my head, worried of what is to come, stressed about projects that seem too much to handle.

...but in the stillness, you capture those thoughts and calm me

...in the quiet, you whisper that all will be well.

honeymoon blues?

so, i know that is a really weird title for a post written by umm... me... considering i'm not married and won't be any time soon... but i was thinking about a conversation with my RA Amy a couple weeks ago... she's an ICS (intercultural studies) major and was wanting to help me with my frustrations with transition... just so i could have someone to talk to... it was really good because i hadn't really talked to anyone for awhile about transition stuff -- besides writing about it here on my blog... which i realize i do quite frequently. she compared adjusting to a new country to a person's first couple years of marriage... first you're in the honeymoon stage... you arrive in the country and everything is incredible... and you're on a high of this "new experience" that is so great... but then you go through rocky ups and downs... because you realize it wasn't as glamorous as you thought it would be... and you become depressed even because you miss life like it was before where you're at... thoughts like, "if only i was somewhere else, i would be happy..." or whatnot... and it's this process of accepting and loving and being ok with everything that is this new place... rather than resenting it because it stole away everything that was familiar.
...you know, just the fact that i can write so much about this should show that i have been slowly seeing the light... because when i am most overwhelmed is when i can't see anything clearly enough to write about it... it's when i'm looking back that i can have 20-20 vision... and see what's really going on.
anyway... i thought it was an interesting analogy, to say the least... and it really made me think. but a lot of things do, i suppose.

a lovely video i made today of a song i wrote awhile ago... put to a slideshow of images... i thought you might enjoy... :

bliss

maybe everything will work out ok. maybe I should just let God have his hands in my life... and not try to make it on my own. even though that is hard when it feels like the world is spinning out of control. I still don't have a roommate for next year, but that is for God to bring some amazing situation into my life -- and even if it's another imperfect roommate situation, I know that there is a purpose in it. My first roommates were great people, and I'm still amazing friends with one of them. My roommates now are amazing people -- I just don't know them well. I just pray that I won't come out of my second year having had a total of 8 roommates total, since so far I've had four... and I don't want a repeat of this year.
Then there are my classes -- which are going well!... even though they keep me so busy. but busy isn't so bad... and I was so stressed about getting to home depot... yet when I decided just to walk alone the couple blocks... it was so freeing. It was so freeing not having to be tied down by another's schedule, but just to walk alone and freely think and ponder... and to just walk around home depot for a couple hours so I could find everything I needed for my lamp project. There was just such a peace and a calm in the stillness and solitude of those moments. I look at the world more deeply and clearly when it's just me and God... less busyness... less stress.
And then, I spent forever stressing about what I would do this summer... and on a whim applied to Mt. Hermon camps... and I had given up hope that they would call me... and started thinking of alternative plans.... but then this afternoon as I was walking to my math class, my phone rang... and I answered it, and it was a lady from Mt. Hermon calling for a short interview for the crafts job... and she basically said it was mine if I was still free. :) I'm so excited... I went online and started looking up lanyard and beading patterns... and I'm thinking of taking up knitting... so I can teach that along with crochet if anyone wants to learn!!... I feel like it will be my heart poured out! I know it will be a lot of work, but I also think it will be incredible. bliss.
In Christ there are moments of bliss... living outside of Christ there is only this constant wishing and worrying and stressing and... I hate that.

now hiring: mentor or resident best friend

i'm so tired of days like today where i spend my whole day holed up in my room -- stressed over so much that i have to do... and no will to do it.
i'm so tired of days like today where no one seeks me out. no one turns my way. i feel so alone.
i'm so tired of not having someone that i know well and trust to share my life with, in sorrows and joys.
i'm so tired.
i'm so tired of not understanding everything that's "normal".
i'm tired of having to figure out what to do about a roommate because everyone already has one for next year.
i'm tired of people feeling sorry for me when I need a lift. that only drags me down.
now hiring: mentor or resident best friend.
qualifications: willing to get to know me really well and be there for me... and to give me hugs when my day just isn't going right... willing to listen and talk and share with me too... friendships are two-way.
i might be here, but no one really knows me.
they know my name, they know i'm into art, they may even know that i grew up in the Philippines... and the select few might know that this year has been really hard because of that...
but no one knows me like a best friend, or even a good friend, would.

remembrance and home

this year has been a year of confusion and trying to sort out mixed feelings of emotion and trying to... i guess understand myself better.
so my post, a copy of a note in my journal (it's rather long, but bear with me):

I feel like my heart is shattered into a million pieces and sprinkled all over the world... and the more I mourn my loss, the more blatantly I realize that in ways I never realized, the Philippines represents home for me. It's true that there are parts of being there, like being a "foreigner" that make it not home, but everything about the culture lights me up!

I want puto and pancit, and even dried fish. I want sweet spaghetti and hotdogs with colorful twisted marshmallows on sticks. I want sticky rice and lumpia, and an abundance of adobo... and lychee. And those just the tastes! I want to hear street merchants in the neighborhoods yelling "baLUT!" or whatever else they decide to sell... "saPAtos"... "moNAY!"... "kanKON!"... oh, and to hear the little magnolia ice cream carts... with their little jingles that could get so annoying, but were so familiar. ...or the sounds of a bustling city, or frogs in a flooded field croaking in such a chorus that they sounded like a bunch of cows! ... Mixed with the sounds of bugs chirping in trees at dusk... and budakees... and carabaos (dumwags)... what a blissful evening. And what of the jeepneys... especially those "cool" ones with their "special" horn sounds? They sound like the voice boxes of talking barbies and GI joes... and toy animals. I never realized I missed it all so much, but I guess that 15 years (arguably 18 with 3 year long sabbaticals dispersed throughout), really does allow a place to steal a large chunk of one's heart.

The last few days have helped me realize just that. I'm doing a project in 3D design about "home being on the airplane" and I'll stick with that even though the Philippines, I'm realizing, is so much a part of me, because I'm also American in some ways, adn thus can never truly fit in either place. Home to me has to be a place where I'm not a misfit, and neither the U.S. nor the Philippines as "home" accomplishes that.
*sigh*

I really want right now to go to my "suki" sari-sari store, on Bishop street in Brookside and buy a 500mL (or 250....) coke "in a plastic", just for old time's sake. The ladies there would ask me about my Ate Nini... who I would say went away to seminary and could be a pastora but now is teaching elementary or high school someplace... and maybe I would mention Ate Lourdes... who was our katulong most recently... and maybe they would have a good green mango harvest again and would share some like they did once, the sap from the stems leaking onto the mangoes and making my hands sticky... sticky and hot, from the humid tropical air. I would then walk home avoiding stray dogs and strange men and sip my coke in a plastic, feeling the straw collapse between my lips. home. or at least a part of home. I would then unlock the gate to my house and walk into the front cemented yard, my ecstatic dog Telly -- (half Filipino mutt, half black lab) -- greeting me an exciting wagging of both tail and body, with tongue outstretched and panting... looking at me with excitement. Then she'd hear a cat and her ears would twitch, and she'd be driven mad with excitement, running around the small confines of the yard until the cat was out of sight.

...

maybe the grass would be greener where I am if I stopped looking at the other side of the fence and ignoring my own patch.
maybe if i actually let the grass grow and nourished it rather than killing it off, the grass would be greener where I am.

The grass is always greener on the other side because there is the refusal to make a differnce in how one's own grass is perceived. If it's brown and dying, then maybe you just need to water it! Chances are, no matter where I go, if I don't tend the grass of the situation, it will become dead and ugly... and I'll want to go elsewhere... but then that grass will die too. It's not about the situation, it's about what you make of that situation.

broken pieces

when will you come
gather up the broken pieces
take some glue
patch them up again?

when will you come
sew my torn heart
patch it up with loving care
make me whole again?

i'm tired of the broken jagged pieces my heart has become. i think i find satisfaction in what is today, but then i again remember of what once was. i know that most of my posts seem to be about that same thing, and when will i get it? but there is a deep sadness in me, as if someone died. it's not just about leaving what was for so long my home, and it's not just about going to a new school in a new place, or about leaving my friends that were so close my heart... and it's not even about my parents leaving me soon... and my sister going off to grad school and no longer being as close by... it's kind of all of that put together. i was hugging a friend today and then i began to think about my friend steph... she gave me a hug every morning before school... and i miss that... and i miss her. then i started thinking about who i would room with next year, and i had no name come to mind... and i started thinking about my friends again and wishing they were near... and i thought about how i don't really have a group of friends i'm totally comfortable with who i do everything with... and i just couldn't handle it any more.

today in history...

I went bowling with my mom today! A fun pre-birthday thing to do... especially since I had to go bowling for my bowling class... there are a certain number of outside of class games we have to play... and we get coupons to cover the cost! It has been so nice having parents nearby this year. That won't be my next couple years, when I have to suddenly grow up and figure everything out myself. On Tuesdays I only have one class, in the late afternoon, so my mom usually will drive down here and take me driving. I'm working on getting proficient enough with my permit that I can pass a driving test and get my license before my parents go back. I'm also hoping to work at a camp this summer, so hopefully that will work out too. They're supposed to let me know sometime this month, but that could be a couple weeks still.
Anyway, just thought I'd check in with more of a... fun post, as opposed to the ramblings of my mind that I so often tend to post.
Yet, this must be all. I have an art history midterm in... about 16 hours, a little less... and I desperately need to study for it.

the figure

I'm not sure how to put all my thoughts on paper without the scorn of some, but maybe being scorned by some is acceptable. It is not law that all men agree with me. I know that the human figure is a topic visited time and again in this culture. We are fixated with figure and the determination of what is acceptable or not. Should the body be concealed? How small or large is it allowed to be? Can the body, along with imperfections be considered beautiful?
Through Christian modesty we are taught that nakedness is shameful. If nakedness is shameful, then isn't the body that is unclothed also unacceptable? Aren't we taught to dislike ourselves and to disapprove of appearance?
I'm not sure where I stand on all this myself, but these thoughts keep whirring through my head. I know that the purpose of modesty is to present oneself in a way that would not provoke others to sin, that sin mainly being lust. Yet, aren't we taught by hiding ourselves that we are something to be ashamed of? I am reminded of my dear professor John Puls, my life drawing teacher, and his comments on how Christianity has taught us that the body is a piece of meat on this earth, something we lug around and live in that holds us down and gives way to our human nature. (or something like that, that was merely the ideas that came from his words.) Yet, we were created by God, and why would God make something that is shameful? It is because of sin that Adam and Eve found themselves to be naked that God made them clothing, yet the human body in itself is not to be despised. It is a masterpiece of God, created by God.
The more I study the figure through life drawing the more I find that the body really is beautiful, in all its un-airbrushed imperfection.
Studying the body brings understanding to who we are... it takes in the truth and shows us beauty.
I don't know what I'm trying to get at here, or if I'm trying to make any point at all... but I've been thinking about the body a lot... and how "taboo" it is in Christian culture. I understand the reluctance to accept something that the world so quickly sexualizes and makes an object of great attention... but at the same time, why must we see it in that way? it's fun to be able to take the body and see it as shifting planes all coming together to create a gorgeous light and dark pattern... and it's cool to realize that just by taking in how someone looks, how they carry themselves we can tell so much about that person.
To end this, I must quote from a passage read for my life drawing class:

"The Knowledge of anatomy is not enough. The artist must penetrate deeper. Actions must be suggestive of the motives which incited them; faces and gestures must reveal frames of mind. The human body was an outward and visible expression of the soul. It was shaped by its spirit. The painter must reverse the process and by constructing a body give expression to a spirit."

I'm not sure what book this was taken from, but it was some of Leonardo DaVinci's thoughts on the body.

i ponder

so... it's funny. everything i write seems to have a title having to do with... thought. ie: thoughts, more thoughts... or this one. i ponder. sigh.
it's really weird, though... because it was math that made me think this time. and math usually doesn't generate deep thoughts in my head... because... well... math is math. i'm not bad at math, but it's not something i want to spend my whole life doing.
but it was math that reminded me that things best learned, knowledge best known, are those things which we seek to know. the only way to know something is to learn it, and the only way to learn something is to actually search for that knowledge.
i hate asking for help. i'm just... ... weird that way. if i don't know something, i need to find it out for myself, and simply asking someone is generally a last resort. that makes the internet, especially google, very handy to me, because whatever i don't know is at my fingertips. if i forget Rene Descartes proofs for the existence of God and am not in my room (where it hangs on my closet) i can look it up on google and have it right there. yet, doesn't this instant-knowledge technology make the deep yearning for knowledge so much less? if it's not hard to find information, then the thirst for that information will be less. people will not desire to enrich their minds because the computer becomes their minds... the internet becomes the collective mind of the world. which is scary, considering all the crude and creepy things that can be found there.
but... yah.
and all that because i didn't remember how to do a specific kind of function problem... and had to look it up in my textbook. (the first time i looked in it since the class started!)... it was amazing. and i think i sort of understand how the problem works now too, which is pretty cool... it thus becomes more than a mechanical repeating of form.

remembering

i don't like remembering, yet i do.
i find myself so confused.
memories bring me back to yesterday, while today i find i am propelled towards tomorrow.
this is how you get out of sadness, moving your feet forward a day at a time and seeing what happens. then a small token of remembrance -- and it's back a step again.
but i guess two steps forward with only one step back still shows progress, even if it is minute.
i want to go back, but at the same time, i don't.
nothing will ever be as it was.
although i have grasped that again and again, there is still that twinge of sadness upon remembering.
i don't expect you to understand, not fully, unless you have been in my shoes and looked down at a country beloved with clear glassy seas from the window of an airplane, not knowing when or if you would ever return. i don't know how much i now consider it my home, but the Philippines was where i lived for 15 out of the 18 years of my life... and the other three years were arguably... more like vacations for me anyway.
yet, i never belonged there and always longed for a place i would find that feeling.
i belonged with mks, with others like me, but never fully with the people -- there was a barrier of language, color, and culture. and although my culture is not fully American, it is also not fully Filipino. i don't belong. that is one of the hardest things ever. sometimes i wish i could be one of the little flowers on a wallpaper design. i wouldn't be alone, and i wouldn't be different, and for my sameness, i would be accepted. yet, i was born to be different, to think differently... and to not fit in. because a philippine-born and philippine-raised girl is not supposed to be blonde with fair skin... she is not supposed to be deficient in her knowledge of Tagalog... she is not to have American parents and have an American passport... someone born and raised in the Philippines... well... they're generally Filipino. I know the national anthem... and know several words in Tagalog but was never taught how to piece them together into sentences, thus my Tagalog sounds very idiotic.
i speak and write English well, or at least can, when prompted to do so, i have white skin, blonde hair, and an American passport. am i not American? yet, i don't know a lot of the common language or slang here... i don't know how an American is supposed to react or respond in social situations. i don't know what is ok to talk about and how deeply a conversation is allowed to go. i'm still getting used to how small talk works... and don't really feel like i've had a real conversation with someone unless barriers of insecurity have been torn down and honesty is laid bare. but i'm not really American in my thinking or way of doing things. i know what it is to be stuck between cultures... and i can usually understand well those who are between cultures... they are in the same shoes that i have to wear... (generally flip flops in my case... or as i would say in manila, tsinelas)...
and so in this place where i am coming to accept my situation and learning how to live as an American would, i still find myself not feeling truly... American... and not feeling truly like i belong.
and then i remember or am reminded of times filled with joy and people who really understood me, and i am torn between now and then and find my eyes brim with tears as they are now. i can't shouldn't and thus don't want to go back... and don't even want to remember sometimes because it is so hard to bear,
but yet, i know that in moving on i don't need to forget. the memories can be mine, even if i can't relive those memories.
what is hard is remaining content with the now while still finding pleasure in the past... gleaning joy from both worlds and coming out of that time satisfied that where i am is where i should be right now.
and i think it is where i should be.
an art major with a Bible minor on a gorgeous campus in LA... just seems perfect to me.
finding out how to use my passion for God -- that is irreplaceable.
learning how to live in this place that is sometimes so foreign to me -- so amazing, even if i come to it with some reservations.
meeting amazing people who daily make me smile, what more could a person's heart desire?

more thoughts

so, I guess I was inspired today by having an... average day. I played an incredible game of bowling, but after that my day slowly went downhill... I guess cuz I was tired and not feeling the greatest.
anyway... after math with prof. Kwak I found that I had an extra 15 minutes cuz we were let out early, and so I had a whole 30 minutes to kill before Foundations...
so I tried calling steph... but no answer.
then I called Lisa... but she was in the caf. at dinner... and I just felt this huge wave of emotion and loneliness overtake me... so I went to the tables by the Talon between the business building and the neighborhood street and just sat at a table and wrote. It was basically spill-time with God... and I thought it would be good to share those thoughts here, as well... kind of to let people know what's been on my mind, and get some kind of input or engage in a dialogue of sorts.

"...I'm in a weird mood that makes me feel like an idiot with every small move I make. It was cool doing well in bowling today! But it felt like everything went downhill from there. I really want to feel your presence in a daily - always there - kind of way. I feel so alone, yet I know I'm so loved, beyond measure, the world just isn't about me. [slight tangent with a point] Why do people waste their time discussing baseball, like the guys to my right, when being a fan of baseball is such a fleeting pursuit? Why do people spend so little time discussing eternity and those things that really matter? All we talk about on a daily basis is what we HAVE to do, the weather, and things that will fade with time. We even find it appropriate to discuss "crushes" and the hoped romances based on shallow ideals rather than traits that really matter. Maybe I'm being cynical right now, but maybe I just long for a life filled with you, seeking you, and not getting caught up in frivolous things that eat away at a life un-lived that could have been - could have been beautiful and lived to the fullest..."

thoughts

so... i was talking to peter today, instant messaging, and then i started thinking. a lot. that tends to happen when i talk to him. we talked briefly about secular universities vs. Christian universities... and he mentioned how a difference is that at secular colleges no one pretends to be a Christian. of course no one does. it's not popular to have a faith that you live out and "shove" on other people. yet, why would someone who isn't truly a Christian want to attend a Christian university? the thought blows my mind.

1. Christian colleges are a LOT more difficult to pay for, since they are private institutions.
2. If you're not a Christian, why would you want to surround yourself with something you don't believe?

Sure, you can go to a Christian college to seek after God and try to find him in a more real way... but if you aren't a Christian, why bother with the extra hassle of less money to live on, less freedom to do all the things that you COULD do at a secular college that are taboo in Christian circles, and dealing with all the fronts you put up to pretend you're something you're not? It's so pointless.

It is definitely true that in a Christian circle it is easy to feel like you need to be perfect, and in that fronts must be put up, but to fake Christianity is pure stupidity.

I'm basically saying that to be anything but who you are is... well... not worth it.

it's a choice

choice, eh? you mean, i don't have to dwell on negative aspects in life? i can live if i choose? joy is a choice. i'm slowly being reminded of that. if i want a positive life, i need to live it with a positive attitude -- look over the things that aren't quite as good and focus on what's amazing. hmm... must think on this. :)

jen