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Thursday, 04 January 2007

  •  “Great fiction shows us not how to conduct our behavior but how to feel. Eventually, it may show us how to face our feelings and face our actions and to have new inklings about what they mean.”

    -Eudora Welty

    I want to start reading again. I want to start writing again. It's inspiring to remember, or rather, to be reminded of how art changes us. And to remember why.

    I read the above quote in the latest issue of Image. It was followed by this:

    "It may sound like heresy, but I believe that religion is as much about how to feel as it is how to behave. In the end, the best antidote to moralism run amok is true religion, not secularism. About a year before his election to the papacy, Joseph Ratzinger gave the funeral homily for an Italian priest named Luigi Giussani, who had founded a lay movement that had nearly disintegrated in the political turmoil of the late 1960s. Ratzinger characterized Giussani’s vision—a vision that successfully moved beyond that upheaval—in this way: “Christianity is not an intellectual system, a packet of dogmas, a moralism, Christianity is rather an encounter, a love story; it is an event.” He went on to say:

    It was the great temptation of that moment to transform Christianity into a moralism and moralism into politics, to substitute believing with doing. Because what does faith imply? We can say, “In this moment we have to do something.” And all the same, in this way, by substituting faith with moralism, believing with doing, we fall into particularisms, we lose most of all the criteria and the orientations, and in the end we don’t build, we divide.

    In art, as in faith, the heart of the matter is not doing, but the wonder we experience—the way we feel—in the face of the encounter. And we are never more willing to change and to build than when we fall in love."

Tuesday, 05 December 2006

  • Currently Listening
    Begin to Hope
    By Regina Spektor
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    Really Funny Story (in a laughing-and-crying-at-the-same-time kind of way)

    (this is the story i promised to tell you, brett, but never did. i hope you enjoy it. its pretty good.)

    okay. i think most people know about the terrific snow storm that recently coated missouri's landscapes  with about a foot and a half of snow. i mean, i don't know exactly how much got to other places, but columbia looks like it failed to dodge a giant avalanche. so. my funny story is about sledding. sledding was one of the first things on my mind after the storm, and luckily derek and i know a lot of fun people, because a whole party went out to a ginormous sledding hill as soon as we could drive there. i was pretty excited. derek and i got all of our layers and layers of sledding gear on. i put on my impenetrable-to-the-cold, 200 pound snow boots - brett, you know the ones- thick fuzzy pants, three long sleeve shirts, my big poufy coat, one of derek's stocking caps, and two pairs of gloves. and i wore those clothes around the apartment for quite a while. the truth is, i was pretty excited to go and probably got dressed way before i needed to. i ate lunch in my snow clothes, sat and stared at the wall in my snow clothes, talked to derek while he got dressed in my snow clothes. i was ready to sled. but, a few minutes before molly came to pick us up, i started feeling pretty groggy. i think it must have been a mix of eating pretty heavy food for lunch and being in hot, heavy clothes for so long in a warm apartment. by the time molly got there i was really ready to take a nap. i was a little distressed to have been drained somehow of my energy, but, nevertheless, i was still looking forward to getting out on the hill.

    when we got there there were already a ton of people, mostly little kids through high school, scattered all about on the hill. and they were flying down the snowy slope like crazy - some kids had built ramps, others just grabbed anything and everything they could find - from tupperware lids and recyling bags to uber expensive turbo sleds - and slid down the hill like there was no tomorrow. we found the rest of our party, gleeful red in their faces and excitedly screaming, taking turns going down the hill on one big long plastic sled, one little round single-person sled, and recycling bags. and oh man. i was tired. but excited. all of the four people that i arrived with decided to make our maiden trip down the hill together, in the big long plastic sled. i was to be in the front because i was the smallest and lightest (i have no idea why it works that way, but they said that more weight needed to be in the back for some reason). so on the sled we piled and began to scoot forward, inch by inch, until stephen ran over, urgently, holding the little round sled in his hands and saying, "the front gets it" or "the front eats it" or something like that (i think my hat had muffled my hearing). he put the little plastic sled in my hands, looked assuringly into my eyes, and said, "here, use this as a shield." i think i was a little confused at this point. a bunch of people started explaining something about snow flying up, and i think i kind of understood, but i was really just pretty anxious to go down the hill. but okay, i thought, i understand that these people want me to hold this little plastic sled in front of me as we go down. i could do that. sure. so there we were, teetering, tottering, as i held the sled up. we inched forward. and then it all began. all of a sudden we accelerated at an incredible rate. i remember having that falling feeling, that my-stomach-is-inside-my-throat-and-and-if-my-heart-beats-any-faster-i-am-going-to-die feeling. the thing was, i couldn't see. it was awful, scary, and i couldn't think fast enough to know what to do. lucklily that problem was taken care of by several big bumps that sent the veiw-blocking sled flying. oh, but then there was another, bigger problem. literal streams of snow were, i think, shooting up from the ground and into my face. you know that great slip and slide game we all loved to play as children? the one where you slide down a long piece of plastic into a sprinkler shooting water at you? yeah, think of that, but minus the fun and add snow. so what did i do? well, the only logical thing i could have done: i stuck both of my hands and feet in front of me to block the snow. having forgotten completely that my boots were nearly twice my weight, the fact that i was sitting in the very front of the sled and that we we going down very fast took its evil toll on my situation. i became instantly terrified that i would fall forward out of the sled and be run over and killed. i at this point molly, who was sitting behind me, must have had her arms torn off by the wind that was whipping all around our little bullet of a sled. i say this because i could no longer feel her arms around me. yep, i was pretty sure she had called me a goner, loosed her grip, and clung to the sled for her own dear life. i summoned all of the concentration i had to yell, "MOLLY! HOLD ME!" but alas, fate was set against me. when i opened my mout it was instantly filled with wind and snow. i choked, saw my life flash before my eyes, and then i died. or, rather, the sled stopped at the bottom of the hill. as i became aware that i was still alive and breathing, i stood up, blind (the snow had been packed so densely on my face that it had turned into a mask of ice and i had to wait several painful moments for the freezing thing to melt before i could open my eyes) and i became immediantly concerned for everyone elses safety. was i the only survivor? did anyone else make it?   ... and then i realized that there was laughter all around me. and exclamations of "that was awesome!" etc. clearly a few people must have hit their heads and turned a little nutty. but no - when i opened my eyes i saw them charging up the hill to go again. now. my emotional state has been a little delicate lately (for no really good reason except for that i am a girl) , and i really thought i was going to cry. what had happened? why didn't everyone think that they were going to die?  even more importantly, why did i think i was going to die? confused, cold, and shaken, i trudged back up the hill. there i sat, at the top, while the hill of death loomed in front of me, disguising its perilousness with dozens of laughing, smiling seven-year-olds. i couldn't do it again. i just couldn't. it was lunacy. every once and a while someone would bob up to me, red, smiley face, and say, "ashley, you should go again." "no, thats okay, you go," i would say. or, "i am not ready". but i really wanted to go again. i wanted to have fun sledding, like i normally do. but i honestly couldn't. the rest of the trip was mingled fear and a desire to have fun, compounded by emotionalness that turned me into a five-year old (but not a five year old like the ones that were going down the hill). i think i actually started to cry when i willed myself to go down the second time. and i still really can't figure out what happened to me, except that its really funny now.

Friday, 20 October 2006

Sunday, 06 August 2006

  • Currently Reading
    The Way of a Pilgrim
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    i may have a nervous breakdown (not really, but this is why)

    mercy! where to begin? the past few weeks of my life could be called insane. i have:

    1. found a wedding dress. after changing my mind a thousand times, spending endless hours looking at different pictures, discussing different options (like having it made, making it, buying it, borrowing, renting, ect.), and so on, i finally found it! and its perfect! i would put a picture of it up, but my fiancee has access to this site so that would never do (mel, i'll have to email it to you ;)). but, like i said, its gorgeous and  i think it might have been made for me by an angel. really really.

    2. picked out and made (with help from a beloved sister and mom) all of the bouquets. lots of work but its wonderful to be able to look at them all and know they are done.

    3. found pattern and got material for bridesmaid dresses. and flowergirls (there will be three!). and candlelighters.

    4. found centerpieces and decorations for the reception. have i said how wonderful my mother is? what a wonderful, dear, perfect help and comfort she is. praise God.

    5. moved. this experience consisted of me, with a laundry basket, walking up and down the stairs of my apartment building from 2 AM until noon the next day. why, you ask? because i forgot i had to move until 1:30 in the morning on the day i had to be out of my old apartment by noon (i just moved three floors upstairs, so no packing was really necessary. yep, just me with a laundry basket, all by myself, filling it, taking it upstairs and dumping it out on the floor. and cleaning my old apartment. thankfully two wonderful, strong men came over last minute to help me with the heavy stuff.) and i had to work at noon that day, so i ran, literally, all the way to work and got there 11 minutes late. talk about one of the longest days of my life. and coming home to an apartment full of enormous mounds of tangled up cords, clothes, cds, candles, etc, etc, etc, for some reason, to me, at the time, felt extremely funny. i think i actually laughed in a delerious, crazy kind of way, and then i stayed up until 1 AM getting things put together (with help from a wonderful jared). and then i had to get up a 5 AM to work AGAIN. i am pleased to say i am still alive.

    6. getting ready for derek to come home! and he is home! you all know, of course, how wonderful, wonderful, wonderful this is. but yes - there were many preparations  involved. surprise parties, cleaning houses and such.

    7. getting two new jobs. clovers, the local health food store, and taking care of three adorable children. oh, but i will miss the artisan sooo much! it is so hard to leave! but i will still be making cheescakes there, so there is that at least. aww... but once you work at the artisan, you never really leave (or at least thats what they tell me).

    ....and there is still so much left to do. too much to write now at least. i'll have to really sit down and make out a list - this time before i do it all ;).

Thursday, 15 June 2006

  • Currently Reading
    Tortured for Christ
    By Richard Wurmbrand
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    recently i've had a lot of conversations with strangers. i don't know why its all of a sudden, now, and so much more often than in the past. it seems like things like that come abruptly, at unanticipated moments - showing up when my mind is on something else or when i'm "busy". when my focus is close, close, close: my hands, my book, my laptop; the tea on my table. and then there is movement beyond somewhere. it's small - timid even - and my depth of field shifts: someone else.  often these people approach me to ask a casual question that gets turned into a conversation, or else a public episode will happen which generates discussion amongst myself and other bystanders. one old man actually spoke to me for no apparent reason other than to tell me about the glory days of his youth. the intricacy of a person is unfathomable. what exactly do all of their expressions mean? what about that glimmer of the eyes? and the tilt of a head, just so? how is it that a voice can be weighted with rancor, dark and terrible, when it speaks the blandest things -and as light and full as joy itself whilst conveying unintended offenses. its not so much what is said, but how. these unique, particular, personal things can never be captured with any language i know or conveyed outside of the original conveyance. they belong to the original. how precious, then, we all are. how worthy of attention.

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aleysh

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    • Name: Ashley
    • Member Since: 2/8/2006

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