A Broken Blog

The Single that Broke the Camel's Back

2010-10-07T23:48:00.009-05:00

First, let me preface this post by informing the reader that I am fully aware that the following just might reveal the author's pretentious nature and proclivity towards snobbery.

I have a problem with commercials.

Specifically, the music played during commercials.

Forget the endless moral and ethical inquiries surrounding the world of advertising, television, consumerism... blahblahblah... This is personal.

The first instance I can remember of commercial music (meaning music from a commercial, not music intended for commerce... er, right) being strikingly different was this gem, for a Chevy Malibu:

I remember thinking that it was odd for a song that was in no way "mainstream" to find it's way into a TV ad. Then I remember being annoyed as people began to talk about Silversun like they were the openers for Brittney Spears. There have been one-hit wonders and obscure bands with catchy tracks on TV before, but it always happened after the fact. In this case, the TV ad propelled the song onto the charts, and I guess the public opinion of the Malibu improved slightly as well, which is debatable. At some point the status quo changed; it became the ad designers goal to infiltrate the indie music subculture looking for bands that they can scoop up and use to sell their product, with the promise that they, the artist, will benefit just as much, if not more. In nature we call that mutualism; both parties benefit. Like the little fish that swim in the big fishes' mouths and eat their leftovers. I recall a few other incidences of this happening until people seemed to catch on and became disinterested, realizing that this tactic of plastering cool music onto an ad for no good reason is "lame."

Then, not so long ago, we went a step further. Lincoln wanted to make a car commercial that was so sexy that it could inspire Ghandi to sign a 10-year lease on a new CTS (I mean, Navigator?). So, they went out and found someone that they thought would stir up interest in their product, or at least, their multimillion dollar ad campaign . They got a hold of Cat freaking Power and said "Hey, do you wanna come into the studio and sing, oh, you know, maybe 30 seconds of Space Oddity, and we'll all make tons and tons of money?" Sure, why not. Sign me up! I won't record a full length version of the song for my fans, or anyone else for that matter. I just wanted to take advantage of a creative outlet as unique as... a Lincoln commercial? Now I am forced to ask myself if someone who I previously considered a musical artist is just another voice for hire.

Within the last three or so months, I have been shocked again and again by the music that I hear in the gaps between Whale Wars and Glee. Passion Pit, Andrew Bird, The Antlers, Phoenix, Calvin Harris(really weird Calvin Harris), Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Mates Of State, Anathallo, Temper Trap, the entire Wilco album on various VW spots, The xx, Cold War Kids, Kid Cudi, and many more I can't think of right now. I've been stewing for quite some time about these ad men harshing on my buzz. About how all of these musicians that I respect are letting massive corporations do what? Use the music I like to try and get me to buy something?! In all honesty... that just pisses me the h-e-doube-hockey-sticks off! I intentionally seek out music that is made for the sake of music, not to be manipulated by corporate interest. And what I am rewarded with? A gigantic, greedy, slap across the face. (I'd also like to add that I pay for my music, whereas 97% of my friends do not.)

I thought of some more: Sleigh Bells, Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros, Explosions in the Sky...

But this... this cinched it.

The Dodos?!?! I fell off of my couch and seriously considered weeping.

Sufjan, so help me, if I so much as hear a single riff from anything you touched on a television commercial... well, you will have crushed all of my remaining hope.

I just want to like something good.

Postmodern Protagonist Anxiety

2010-09-03T19:42:00.002-05:00

We all secretly long for an antagonist. For a force directed against us. A foe. An enemy. A nemesis. Preferably of the arch variety. I had one once. Or at least I think I did.

We feel this way because if there is someone, or something, violently pitted against our nature or values, our person, then we can immediately set out a clear and tangible goal for ourselves: Overcome. Triumph. In short, our struggles give us the purpose we desire. So we set out from our doorsteps in the morning unconsciously yearning to come across some terrible conflict that will define our day. The morning commute is a battle, a race. At work we fight the good fight. We probe our coworker's comments for hints of offense that can be blown out of proportion, or better yet, used against them at a later time to prove our point. We scavenge for opportunities to steer conversations and enlighten minds. At 5 o’clock we declare victory and head home, already scheming on the best strategy to get an advantage over dinner. And at night we go to sleep dreaming of the things in our lives we wish were different, fantasizing about getting ripped and tax refunds. The we start fresh the next day, another war against the world.

What if we got up and couldn’t wait for that hot cup of coffee (in an appreciative manner, not so much escapist). What if we hopped in the car giddy at the thought of listening to some good music and the cool morning air rushing in the windows. We can’t wait to vehemently agree with our coworkers opinion on the cuteness of that dog. We are constantly on alert to seize on opportunities to encourage our neighbor in whatever it is that they are doing. We can’t wait to get home and hear about how everyone else’s day went. And we go to bed grateful for the opportunity to do it all again tomorrow.

Now, granted, that all may sound like rainbows and unicorn farts to most, but the core issue is the point. Do you wake up ready to be afflicted? Do you feel boring if you don’t have any big news to share when someone calls to check in on you. I mean, what are you supposed to talk about other than how shitty your boss has been lately? Life? Pshaw! Engage with those around us? May it never be!

Why? Because it’s hard. It sucks not being angry. It’s not as instantly rewarding as sarcasm. If I can’t be passive aggressive... then my incredible wit will atrophy from lack of use. And then people will forget how awesome I am, and, maybe, I will have to stop focusing on myself all of the time... that sounds unpleasant for me.

I need to feel like someone out there is dumber than I am. I need to find new music so I can uphold my snobbish reputation which I value so much. I need vices to make myself feel cool. I need rest cuz' I work so damn hard. I need to cuss so that I seem rebellious. I need to keep in touch with old friends, so that they don’t forget about me. I need to be liked. I need some strife so I can justify my anxiety. If I don’t get these things that I need, I’ll be pissed. And I will take that out on everyone around me, because it’s mostly their fault anyways. I need to be the center of my own story, and my story needs conflict in order to be interesting.

You know, like that Navy recruiting commercial... “If someone wrote a book about your life, would anyone want to read it?” To which my immediate reaction is always “Oh no! That’s embarrassing!!! How much do they know? I better get my act together and be better than most people.”

But... what if I don’t care? How awesome would that be right?
Right?

End August

2010-08-27T15:39:00.003-05:00

It is truly amazing how one "good" week can erase a few months worth of frustration and anxiety.

What is even more amazing is how much of that suffering is self-inflicted, if only for the reason that I didn't know any better at the time.

What does a good week look like? Loving friends, neighbors, and coworkers well. Being so moved by a song that after the fact you sit in silence, just to relish the experience. Paying too much money for a bad movie... in 3D! Being glad to do laundry. Having uncomfortable conversations. Reading. Being ok with being ok. Laughing at a spilled extremely hot cup of coffee. Flirting with customers for 7 continuous hours. Lots and Lots of music. Getting Saturdays off!! Knowing the next week can be just as good.

Why are we so driven to reach the standards of success of this world? I am officially against that. I don't want any more. A big thanks to Starbucks for making me a much much happier, yet poorer, person. Didn't think I'd be saying that a year ago.

But anyway, here is some good music:

Coffee Pot Time Machine

2010-08-18T13:06:00.003-05:00

I am putting off errands that desperately need to be erranded, as usual. I never seem to have non-pressing issues. Maybe it is because I don't really take anything seriously until it is almost too late... or just too late. I would say it's my tragic flaw: general apathy. That and my fear/love of technology that leaves me in a constant state of anxiety. I love my iPhone but I know that one day it will try to kill me. That's life I guess.

But there is still some coffee in the pot, so that is my excuse for now. Community group is meeting here tonight, and I really do need to clean... and to go get the food for CG, but again, Coffee. In. The pot.

There have been a lot of almost storms here as of late. They blow in with lots of wind and thunder but no rain. All bark and no bite. And how hard is it to get a hurricane on the Gulf Coast?? I mean I've been here since 2008 and I can't even get a measly tropical depression? I'm not sure if I'd be happier somewhere with majestic mountains or frequent thunderstorms. Like the Kentucky mountains kind of storm. That sounds really nice right now.

I feel like I may have wasted my vacation. The break from work did it's job, and I am having a great time... but I failed to leave Southeast Texas. My new goal is to get a promotion and save enough money to spend an entire week somewhere. I'm thinking... Oregon? Montana? Yes?

Calendar Months

2010-07-28T10:28:00.007-05:00

August. The downward slope of summer. Last night it became clear that the industrial A/C unit here is... unreliable, but still very survivable. The first thing I do on my days off is open all the blinds in my room, head downstairs, open more blinds and throw back the giant sheeny red monstrosity called a curtain in the living room. Next stop is the coffee machine, just recently up and running after the transition and the moving and all. Then I'll throw some yogurt, fresh fruit, and a little granola with a touch of honey into a cup and relocate to the couch to listen to some quiet music.

I scan the music blogs and the church blogs and my friends blogs, check for hurricanes, then tech blogs and art blogs and blog blogs, and drink coffee. I'll take the coffee outside and sit on the porch for a while. Then I'll come back inside and grab the laptop because its just better outside than in. Then, maybe, I'll update my own blog, because I feel like a slacker.

Outside, there is a lone mosquito tormenting me, but she is elusive. Have you ever noticed that they, the really bad ones at least, always know how to land somewhere where you can't see them until it's too late? She's a crafty one. (P.S. Did you know only the females suck blood? And only the males make noise when they fly. Huh!)

I have a patch of clear sky on this patio, which is abnormal for this part of town.

The space is shared by dozens of little brown and green lizards that tend to stare rudely at me, a few mockingbirds, one obese squirrel with balance issues, and our neighbor Colin, who is a bit confrontational... and English.

For being about 80 feet off of Westheimer, it is extremely quiet. Quieter than anywhere I have lived in the city so far. Which is sad, because speaking relatively to the porch in Nac, the noise is deafening.

I want a tomato plant.

But back to August. I am anxiously awaiting that first slight chill in the air a few months from now, when the sky turns grey and the air is filled with the smell of smoke from the Texans that feel a fire is necessary when the temperature drops below 70. There is college football on Saturdays, and I can hang around the house in my Tennessee sweater and read and write and drink more coffee than usual.

Right now there is a storm brewing outside. The breeze is cool and the sky is ominous. It smells like rain, musty and thick.

It is strange that, in all my ambitions, (or lack thereof) and all of my plans, I never feel quite as content and successful as I do sitting on a porch in a thunderstorm, just sitting, alone or in good company.

I guess that it is because in those times I forget about my budget and my social status, and the worries of work, the stress of having no direction, and I can just be for a while. Which I think is the important part. I think.

I Hate Boxes

2010-07-15T10:20:00.003-05:00

The move is now almost complete. I am now 2000ft further from the inner loop, so I lost a bit of ground in that regard, the upside being that I live directly across the street from a House of Pies. Hello breakfast! It took me about a week and a half to get all of my crap over here. I realized I have a pretty huge problem asking for help. A good portion of it is just pride and wanting to be able to accomplish things on my own, which is bogus, but what I also figured out is that I hate the rejection of asking for help and not getting any. Which happened. Big time. Luckily my friend Christopher helped me out on Saturday with the big stuff, so I was extremely grateful for that.

We keep finding little nuggets of interest all around the town home. Like the vent in the downstairs bathroom that is not actually A/C, but an unobstructed hole in the exterior wall. Or the poorly run coax cable that runs from one wall outlet into another one upstairs. And my new favorite, the phone lines here are so ancient the AT&T tech had never seen them before, and we definitely can't get service. I like AT&T, but I'm more anxious about having to give money to Comcast and funding their attempted takeover of free communication. All those things considered, the place is great. It's not new, but it's not falling apart. The neighbors, though nosy, all seem super nice. It's a lot brighter that the last place, and Amit's and my entertainment center is spectacular if I do say so myself. And I am free from Tanglewood Court!!!! FYI, it's the worst complex in Texas. Tell your friends.

I've been diving into music during the move to qualm my anxiety. Moving and OCD do not play well together. I used my credit card points to redeem a record player, and I blew my tip money at Soundwaves and Cactus getting some new vinyl. It sounds amazing! How have I missed out on this for so long? Albums make me happy.

But now I have to go gather the last vestiges of food and junk from the old place and do some laundry in our tiny washer/dryer. Did I mention we have a washer/dryer? Soo nice.

Horse Feathers and Townhomes

2010-06-03T23:03:00.020-05:00

After months of waiting, La Blogotheque finally caught up with Horse Feathers. I knew this was coming, but it took much longer than I expected. And it couldn't have been a better time than after Thistled Spring, their latest release. In previous albums, the lyrics and instrumentation have been outstanding, but disjointed, but now it seems to be a more cohesive effort, while still maintaining that familiar Horse Feathers sound. Here be a video!

Next, Menomena's new album, Mines, is due to release July 27th!! I am so excited I can barely button my pearl snaps. Go to www.menomena.com to download "Five Little Rooms", a single from the new album. It's a tasty little track with sweeping and eccentric melodies that make my heart happy, and make me very excited to hear the entirety of the new LP! (Also Barsuk Records may be my new favorite label... if there is such a thing...)

♫ Menomena – Five Little Rooms

I gave into temptation (sweet, sweet temptation) and bought an eMusic booster pack, mostly so I could get the new Sleigh Bells album, Treats, that has the interwebs all a buzz. Initially, I like it. It sounds like F-16s flying into my eardrums, and I am totally on board with that. Crunchy pop tunes with a twist, these sounds are very in your face, and just like everything else that is tactless, you either like it, or you don't. You'll know in about five seconds into "Tell 'Em".

♫ Sleigh Bells – Tell ‘Em

So the lease on the new digs is signed, and I think my first purchase is going to be a record player. I hate buying CD's. Physically, they are trash, tiny and fragile, they are not worth the extra $$$ vs. digital copies. But vinyl? Vinyl is pretty. It is durable. It is big. It has character. I recently went to Soundwaves on Montrose and discovered a huge selection of vinyl from many of my favorite artists, and I know Cactus music has a nice array as well. I am pretty good at not spending money, but I may have found my Kryptonite. I hope my kids appreciate the looming consumerism I am about to engage in one day...

Clicking Clicking

2010-05-12T00:49:00.004-05:00

So... how did I get here? It's 12:46am and I'm having trouble remembering what I did today. I remember going to bed last night and thinking about all the things I needed to do, but I have no idea what they might have been. I mean, I needed to go to the bank, but that can wait until another day when my accounts are a bit more depressing.

I do know that I took a typing speed test about 8 times and the best I could manage was 43 words per minute, which was not as good as I was expecting. The clicking when I type sounds so much more impressive than 43 words per minute. It's kind of hypnotizing actually, the sound of the clicking.

I'm just going to type on for a bit and listen to the clicking. I don't really have much to say but I'm not going to stop typing. Mostly because of the clicking, the clicking that sounds so much faster than 43 words per minute... some of you might realize that I am just stalling because I can't think of anything else to say, and you would be right... Honestly I haven't really had anything to say in a while. Or ever really. I just really want to have something to say sometimes.

Last week, I worked on my fake novel and I wrote up some fake editorials to see if any newspapers would actually run them. I wrote a fake investigative report about a blockbuster employee that I could prove was actually a Russian spy. I did these little exercises where I would just imagine a story and pick up the thread of it somewhere in the middle, like the sequel to a book that was never written.

And I was having a great time. I felt accomplished. I felt smart. I felt like I might be good at something. But right now I can't think of a single thing in the world, either real or imagined, to write about, other than the sound that my fingers striking the keys makes as I type as quickly as I can... Probably inducing early stage carpal tunnel.

I really feel like this is faster than 43 words per minute though, I think the test is skewed because I have to read and type at the same time, but when I am just typing I don't have to worry about all that pesky multi-tasking.

I know about multi-tasking from work... and let me tell you, it really isn't all that great. Once people think that you can do more than one thing at once, they will expect you to do more than one thing at once all of the time, and then they will start to add more things to your more than one thing, and all of the sudden you are really, really multi-tasking, if only for a second, until your brain suddenly realizes that it is doing too many things and shuts off completely. It's like blowing a fuse. Happens to me four times a day, at least. Too much input, not enough processing space, so I'm going to shut down for a few seconds and then reboot, and all work not saved prior to this point will be lost. What did you just say to me?

It's funny how much like computers our brains are. Or vice versa. Every thing goes a bit slow when you first get started, but after a while everything works fine. Unless you go too long without turning it off, then things start to happen. You know what I mean? It doesn't crash or anything but little things are just... off.

I am enjoying the clicking clicking clicking, because I feel like I am writing, like creativity is flowing out of me in some extraordinary way, even though I am simply rambling about nothing, ignoring the squiggly red lines for now because I desperately want to correct the spelling, but I can't afford to stop typing! If I stop I might not start again and then what would I do? Sleep? Not likely. I must press on, towards the goal!

Because if I stop then I will have to deal. I will have to deal with all of the things that need dealing with. If I am not writing as quickly as my brain can process things than I will be processing other things that I desperately don't want to process. I just want to make my own way right now, my own reality of text and backlit LED screens. And the clicking clicking clicking comforts me. Don't look around the room, don't stop because of the growing pain in your wrist, don't stop to pee, just don't stop the clicking!!! If you stop the clicking you will have to

Tenniscoats - Take Away Show

2010-04-23T13:53:00.001-05:00

Produced by Chryde for la Blogotheque

Filmed and edited by Colin Solal Cardo

Sounds and mix by François Clos

24 FEBRUARY 2010

EBISU, TOKYO, JAPAN

Read the story

blogotheque.net/Tenniscoats,5405 (FR)

blogotheque.net/Tenniscoats,5411 (EN)

myspace.com/tenniscoats

takeawayshows.com

The Wonders of the Mid-Week Weekend

2010-03-31T20:58:00.001-06:00

Today was laundry day. It's an occasion that I dread; putting it off for as long as possible. But as most of you know, there comes a certain point... past re-wearing jeans and electing sandals over shoes (for lack of socks...), that the chore can not be pushed back any further. I woke up early to brew some coffee, and I sorted the daunting piles to some new Beach House albums I picked up from eMusic. After a quick run to the border for lunch, I swallowed my pride and carried my multi-tiered laundry basket the two hundred yards to the beige capsule that is the community laundromat.

As I rounded the corner, I saw a mid-eighties Hyundai leaving the vicinity, and some unfamiliar faces eyed me cautiously as we crossed paths. This is never a good sign, folks. I maneuvered the basket around onto my hip to get the access card out of my back pocket, and I stumbled through the door. Sure enough, 6 of the 8 washers were in use, and, just as always, the right half of the room was submerged in an inch of spring-day smelling water. I slogged over to the remaining two machines I was constrained to with what I estimated to be 7 plus loads of milk-stained uniforms and the few clothes I manage to wear when I’m not working. I like to call them my ‘streets’. Two loads in and I hopped up on the sorting table to hunker down for the long haul.

I brought along my headphones and The Gum Thief by Douglas Coupland, a needed break from Dostoevsky. The facilities here aren’t exactly what one would refer to as “top of the line”. I couldn’t decipher the writing on the sticky notes adorning the dryers, but I knew well enough that they warned any would be users of the tribulations awaiting them should they attempt to use that machine. From the looks of it they weren’t in English anyway, which is also normal. With the music playing over the low droll of the straining machines and the monochromatic oppression of so, so much beige, it is a strange kind of relaxation that takes hold. Somewhat like being in a hospital bed, knowing full well you don't want to be there. I tried my best to focus on the text and let my brain filter out the white noise. As well as the beige noise.

I guesstimated that the Hyundai owners had started their machines at roughly 1:00PM. I know that one wash cycle lasts approximately 20 minutes, and one drying cycle lasts from 30-90 minutes depending on the size of the load and how lucky you are feeling on that particular day. I did some quick math in my head and figured out I would be there for most of forever. I checked my phone periodically for e-mails or texts, and I was periodically disappointed. The Gum Thief was annoyingly direct. I was more in the mood for some clever jokes and casual observations about the mundane, sprinkled with blunt truths, which is what I expect from Coupland, but this book was lecturing me about the futility of life and minimum wage jobs without wasting any time at all. I felt myself growing angry at his pretentiously self-aware narrative and the immensely small characters. Eventually, my machines clicked off, but no one else had ventured inside since my arrival, so I transferred my unmentionables to the only two dependable dryers in the room. I know them not by their location, as that varies from week to week, but by their manufacturer’s ID numbers; good old WMZ-872 and GHF-020 have yet to let me down. Being observant has its advantages, after all. In go the jeans and the aprons.

I took a break from my sentry duties and walked through a few courtyards in search of a vending machine. The complex was eerily silent on a workday. The towering office building next to the apartments looked as still and immovable as ever, yet, I knew there were thousands of employees inside hustling about, making comments about hump day around the proverbial water cooler. The skyscraper’s windows reflect these little boxes of light on the pavement. If you stand in just the right spot, you are lit from both sides. You can almost imagine what life would be like on a planet with an extra sun, standing there with your headphones in, listening to Wilco and sipping an off brand Dr. Pepper. Back in the isolation chamber, still no sign of any other washees, so I resumed my post. Back into the book, I finally break after falling for a more than one of Coupland’s intricate psychological traps and agree that, yes, sometimes I would like a life do-over. Now I’ve identified with the characters that I previously thought of as small, and I realize that this is what he wanted. He has defeated me. Easily. Now I must continue reading to discover how I can redeem myself from my small life. I continue to be disappointed in my phone.

The weather outside is gorgeous. Did you know you need at least 15 minutes of sun a day? It’s true, I googled it. The temperature in increasing inside the laundry room, making the most uncomfortable place in the world that much more uncomfortable. Around 3:30, one half of the faces from the Hyundai stumbled in. But it wasn’t the brief stumble and recovery that accompanies most entrants, this was a stumble followed by further stumbling. I watched her gather her bearings, register another presence in the room, become embarrassed, and then play it off like she knew I was there the whole time. She wobbled through the shallow lake and began to check her machines. Then she checked my machines. Now she was putting her hands in my machines. I remained hunched over my book, but I cleared my throat loudly, leering at her in what I hoped was an intimidating manner. She smells like body odor and tequila. After a brief pause for reflection, she went over to check the dryers. I tried to focus on reading, but she was now moving around the room like a moth trapped in a garage, moving aimlessly from machine to machine... not really doing anything... just floating around. Again I tried to read, but now I was irritated by the intoxicated moth woman and I had lost all focus. Reluctantly I remove one of my ear buds. But just one.
“Hi, can I help you with something?”
She spun around so quickly she lost her balance and began listing to one side. I knew the physics of the situation didn’t stand a chance of working out, but I still jumped down and made an effort to catch her. She mustered up the entirety of the will a drunk person is capable of mustering in times of distress, and caught herself on the edge of the sorting table. Luckily, I stopped before awkwardly grabbing her, but now we were standing very much in each others personal space. I have never smelled such an evil odor as that before. I’m telling you there was a definite malice in the stink.
“Are you OK?”
A blank stare. An uncomfortable silence. Far, far too much eye contact. I backed away Scooby-Doo style just in case this Hyundai moth woman was some sort of early stage zombie. I recalled the empty courtyards and my lack of phone correspondence, and decided that zombie apocalypse was now a feasible scenario, and I was not about to go down here, in this purgatory of neutral colors and ancient commercial resale laundry machines. She continued standing there... just staring at me. I was no longer annoyed, I was slightly afraid.
“What’s wrong?!” I was navigating around the island of washers towards the exit. “How It Ends” by DeVotchKa came on the shuffle, which somehow solidified my concerns, and I made a break for the door, not quite running, but definitely not walking. Once outside I headed for my apartment at a brisk pace, still somewhat aware of my surroundings. I saw a guy taking out his trash and there were cars coming in the gate, punching in the code before entering. There was an ominous lack of blood curdling screams and mobs of the undead. Crap.

I headed back to the laundry. The woman was now gone. She left her clothes in the machines, untouched. My clothes still needed to be washed... so I just, kind of hopped back on the sorting table and started reading again. I made it maybe three words before stopping. I thought about calling someone to tell them what just happened, but I just checked my phone, which was being rather consistent today.

I was disappointed. Because, for just a moment, less than a minute, I thought that something was actually happening, something stupid, something different. But it was just a drunk woman, and it was still laundry day, and my phone was still quiet, and the room was still so very, very beige.

Block

2010-03-24T14:55:00.003-06:00

Sometimes at work I daydream about being a writer. One side of my brain listens to the endless drink orders and my hands do what they've been trained to, staying busy, utilizing every second to make the highest quality beverage in the shortest amount of time. Meanwhile the other side is just as busy, fantasizing about story lines, dialogue, punctuation, and paragraph structure. I think about parenthetical asides (and how much I love them), what colloquialisms are appropriate, and how I can play with words to make a broken sentence feel right.

I have a pen name. A secret identity. I write novels and short stories that cut straight to people's hearts and make them break down and weep. I uplift the spirits of the population without feeding them lies or nostalgia. No one knows what I do. I get a check in the mail every other week. This cappuccino feels like a latte. I need to remake it.

I don't go to functions. Functions are a waste of time. Functions are not conducive to maintaining my secret identity. My secret identity is very important to me. I write at home, wrapped up in the warm glow of the lights and the soothing music. I write about fictional characters, but the fictional characters are always me, or someone I know well. Probably both. Why is this syrup here? This is the wrong syrup for this spot. This syrup being in the wrong spot infuriates me. Everyone should know that I would be mad if this syrup is in the wrong spot.

My characters have the same flaws as I do. My characters do the things that I am afraid of. My characters develop when they do the things that I am afraid of. I wonder if writing about my characters with my flaws doing the things that I am afraid of develops me. I wonder if I am developing at all. Someone is rubbing my back and talking to me, but I am not listening. I am reading my fan mail. The fan mail that arrives in large burlap sacks and the envelopes spill out over the top and land in piles on the floor. I have so many fans. So many people who appreciate my characters. My characters who are really me. They hate who I want them to hate. They cheer for the protagonist. The protagonist who is actually me. They are heartbroken when he fails. I am glad to read about their broken hearts, because their broken hearts are breaking for me. I am out of milk. Don't they know that I hate it when I run out of milk? Why don't they get me more milk? I am in no mood to go and get my own milk right now.

I think about words some more. Good words; like aggregate, immerse, feign, and hope. Bad words; like alot, irregardless, supposed, and kitty. And funny words; like sneeze, smack, gumption, and monkey. I think about words that don't always mean the same thing; like happy, and trust. I think about the rules that I will adhere to. I think about how funny characters aren't allowed to cry, and how the antagonist is not allowed to cry, and how the protagonist is really the only one allowed to cry, except maybe no one should be crying, or maybe everyone should just sneeze instead of crying, and how maybe everyone including the protagonist sneezing when they should be crying could be symbolic. People are getting frustrated with me because I am not talking to them. I fake laughter at everything anyone says to make them feel better. This seems to work. I am really good at faking laughter. Feigning laughter.

I think about the book. I imagine the font. The feeling of the sweep of the letters. The stability of the noble serif, and the modern clean lines of the sans serif. I think about the weight of the ink on the page, and the smell of the glue on the binding. I come up with possible cover art, but I dismiss it as mediocre. I construct titles. I become a title architect. Singular and defiant. Or vague and drawn out. Maybe a singular title with a drawn out subtitle. I decide "Coast: The telling of the story of the man who heard the story that changed the world one Tuesday" is sufficient. I assign a theme to this title. I write the novel that defines my career for this title. I reveal to the world and my friends my secret identity because of the recognition I have recieved for writing the novel of my career for this title. I am loved by everyone. I have a fan club. I go to a function. At the function I receive an award. I speak at a commencement ceremony function. I take a 10 minute break.

I go home early. I watch TV. I make some tea and put on soothing music. I close the window blinds and turn on the warm lamps. I clean my room and put on comfortable pants. I sit down at my laptop and turn off the internet, to remove any distractions. I clean my room some more, to remove any distractions. I open the program on my laptop where I am to write my first novel. I turn my phone off, to remove any distractions. I will publish my first novel with a secret identity. I decide to come up with my secret identity later, to remove any distractions. The space is serene. My mind is focused. I am ready to write. I am about to be a writer.

I watch the cursor blink for an hour before I turn off the soothing music and warm lights and go to sleep.

Sometimes at night I dream of being a writer.

I Need A Vacation.

2010-03-15T10:25:00.002-06:00

Badly.

Though I love Starbucks, my store, and my partners, (really) I am almost completely burned out. I usually log just under 40 hours a week, which may not seem like much to all you 9-5ers out there, but trust me, in this environment, it is quite a lot. My "set" schedule has once again shifted, at just about the time I adjusted to the old one. On Saturday (after a full work week) I opened the store, and then went back in later that night to help my friends close; so my day started at 3:15am and I finally went to bed at 2am Sunday... which was actually 3am thanks to DST (stupid, stupid DST). And, AND, I lost my two consecutive days off, the only thing I really push for, so I'm going in to close tonight. Waa waa waa.

I know that when my initial reaction when thinking or talking about work is to complain, then my attitude is not where it should be. Plus no one likes to hear about it. (Or read about it) Normally I can just (figuratively) kick myself in the butt and get into gear, but I've been doing that for about 11 months without a break. I worked through Christmas. And Thanksgiving. I attempted to take a week off in January, but could not get all of my shifts covered, so I couldn't leave town. I've been in Houston for almost a solid year, and stir crazy does not begin to accurately describe what I'm feeling. I think my problem is that I feel like I deserve a break.

I want a cabin in the mountains, a fishing pole, a bike, plenty of coffee and some good books, some good company, a porch, a fire, a bottle of bourbon, and at least 8 days of freedom. I only have a few hundred bucks, and all of my friends have jobs. It is so very frustrating not being able to get what you want.

I don't know about the whole "Seattle" thing anymore. I think maybe I might just have all the same problems I have here, except with no friends and everything costs more.

But Houston...
The city I hate. And love.

Confessions

2010-03-10T16:50:00.004-06:00

OK.

I admit it.

I like Hip-Hop.

Pursuit of Happiness - Kid Cudi

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Scribbling and Such

2010-03-04T21:55:00.002-06:00

Remember back in November when I was obnoxiously vocal about NaNoWriMo? Well, as it turns out... I suck at novel writing. I started over a total of about 10 times, and I ended up with about 4,000 words of self-indulgent, semi-racist, mostly melodramatic prose that I have recently decided to unearth. I seem to have wandered off into the existential forest again, and doing tactile things tends to help me regain my grasp on reality. I am fairly emotional and needy in this state, so I tend to avoid people as doing so also avoids some embarrassment. I have this fancy little app that I snagged from the last MacHeist called WriteRoom, and even if I am in the mood to construct some absurd, nonsensical poetry, at least I can do it in a pretty application.

Also drinking herbal tea at night instead of coffee helps me get to bed at a reasonable hour, and makes me feel more intellectual. But not as much as drinking bourbon does, but I have budget restrictions.

And speaking of budget restrictions, I loitered around Half Priced Books in the Village for a couple hours tonight (after stopping by the store for coffee (my 3grandevsl)) and purchased a rather eclectic assortment of junk I might or might not read, including The Brothers Karamazov, Leaves of Grass, some back editions of McSweeney's, and a couple Douglas Coupland books. Cheers for ambition!

I've been sketching a bit as well. Looking back, I really wish that I hadn't tossed all of my drawing supplies after I finished my classes, but honestly, I can still remember the dread of knowing I was about to be forced to draw a naked dude for 3 hours twice a week whilst sitting on a uncomfortable, wobbly wooden bench and being judged by all of the real artists in the class, constantly scanning the room to see whose board was worse of than mine, and having small anxiety attacks when that person skipped class. I have regressed substantially since Drawing, and I'm trying to remember all that gibberish that they were talking about while I was focusing on not focusing on breasts or genitals. Also I think I lost my sketchbooks. Or more likely I threw them away as well. I was very anguished at the time.

On a separate note, I cut my hair and trimmed my beard this week, and I have noticed an IMMEDIATE and SIGNIFICANT increase in stranger's duration of eye contact and frequency of returned smiles. Friendly banter and flirting also went up. So friends, what I'm saying is, if I have a terrifying hairstyle and freakish beard, I would very much prefer it if you would quietly take me aside and say "Hey. Paul. Buddy. Cut your hair. You're freakin' people out a bit. It's for your own good," instead of letting me go around scaring small children and the elderly. Really. I won't be offended. Well, I might be for a minute, but I recover quickly, especially when humor is involved.

Thanks.

Happy Sunday Just Like Any Other!

2010-02-14T12:40:00.001-06:00

Abelardo Morell - Photography

2010-02-08T15:21:00.002-06:00

The other day I was trying unsuccessfully to remember the name of this artist, Abelardo Morell, who does a lot of work with pinhole cameras.

In images like these he turns an entire Manhattan apartment into a camera, and then records the image using a 8x10 view camera inside the apartment, or a camera within a camera. He turns the bare bones of photography into some very beautiful, interesting images.

Old Fangs - Sundance Animated Short Film

2010-02-08T15:01:00.003-06:00

I am still browsing the weird and wonderful lot from Sundance, and caught this film from Ireland. Very sad, but beautifully done. Also I think I am obsessed with foxes.

EDIT: The full video was removed, here's the preview.

So Runs the World Away - New Josh Ritter

2010-02-08T14:30:00.002-06:00

Josh Ritter has a new album in the oven, and he has a track available, Change of Time, for free download over yonder at The Historical Consequences of Josh Ritter

After the first few listens I am really enjoying it. Very similar to The Animal Years sound, with a bit more percussive drive and more complex layering. Check it out... it's FREE!

The Passenger

2010-02-05T09:51:00.001-06:00

Super fun animated short film.

Tons of good short films are surfacing in the wake of the film festivals, I'll be sure to post more.

The Emerald City

2010-02-03T09:14:00.002-06:00

So, yes, it is official. Or at least what I have deemed to be official. As of 2/1/2010, I have made the decision to pack up my life and relocate to Seattle, WA. No, I don't have a job. But I do plan on transferring to a Starbucks somewhere in the city. No, I have never been there before, but I have wanted to go there for a very long time now. And yes, the hardest thing by far, maybe the only hard thing, will be leaving my friends and family behind as I set out on a more ambitious path.

I'm moving because, simply, I don't think I can stay here. After my colossal flop in Houston after graduating, I need a fresh start. I need some more motivation. I need a culture that isn't driven by energy, medicine and education. I'm moving to try something new, because I have no reason not to.

I love Starbucks, and would love to move to a different role within the company. Should that not work out, Seattle University has many stellar programs where I can reinvest my education. In my current position I have the amazing opportunity to transfer without penalty (with a wage increase in fact ), no dependents, or excuses to stay.

I do know that I will be leaving the family I have here, but I am comforted by the fact that family is always family, no matter the distance. My parents have been very supportive, and I am very grateful for them. My extended family here in Houston has also been so very optimistic that I know this is a good thing. And when I live in Seattle, maybe they can take a vacation to the Pacific Northwest, I'd be glad to give them that excuse.

I might be going up solo, or with a good friend, Adam, who also desires a clean slate. But either way, I am so excited I can barely function, and I spent at least 2 hours a day just Google-ing the city. I am hopefully taking a scouting trip at the end of this month, should my financials remain in order (which never happens) and that is the first step.

So, friends, don't be mad at me, I don't want to leave you. I'd prefer it if you all uprooted your lives and moved with me, but I know that isn't really possible. I mostly know that. But Texas is my home. Hewitt, and Nacogdoches, and even Houston, will always be more than just places I've lived. And I will be a proud Texan so far from home, and I will enlighten the local population as to exactly why Texas is so much better, you can rest assured. I will undoubtedly be back often, and I hope to see you in the Emerald City one day as well, preferably when I am prepared to give you a good idea of what my new city has to offer.

Thank You All and God Bless,
Paul

P.S. The most upsetting thing thus far: Seattle is closer to Asia then it is to Mexico, so I will have to give up tacos for pho. How can people say they are alive without breakfast burritos?? I just don't get it...

I like where this is going...

2010-02-02T19:39:00.003-06:00

Music videos have been getting more and more creative lately, employing more artistry, animation, and interaction with the music itself. Here are some great ones I've recently found. Are music videos back? Will they have a new venue on the interwebs exclusively for them, like YouTube meets Pandora?

Best of the New Millennium (Decade Top 40)

2010-01-09T14:06:00.014-06:00

Here are my choices for the top 40 albums of the last decade. *Only one slot allowed per artist.

#40 - Middle Cyclone - Neko Case - 2009

By the time Middle Cyclone dropped, Neko had been making waves for quite sometime. Blurring the lines between country, alternative, and indie pop, Neko embodies the hopes of hipsters everywhere that want to move out of the city and be one with the land. Her haunting melodies and pedal steel create a smokey outdoors atmosphere, and she really knows how to pose for magazine covers. Middle Cyclone shows her growth and has the most coherent sound of the rest of her albums, though Blacklisted is still one of my favorites. Did I mention she is hawt?

Top track: "This Tornado Loves You"

#39 - xx - The xx - 2009

Currently skyrocketing up the charts and moving into iPods across the country, The xx came from nowhere. Seriously, where did they come from? The UK, oh, well I guess that makes sense. These 20-year-olds from across the pond proclaim to share a love of the dark guitar sounds of the 80s and the high-end sheen of American R&B. Defying genre (real genre I should say), they create a sound that is both new and familiar. This album sizzles, so crank it, and watch The xx in the future.

Top track: "Infinity"

#38 - Hold Time - M. Ward - 2009

The breathy singer-songwriter sounds of M. Ward will not stand out in your mind. You won't catch yourself singing these tunes during your morning shower, but these poppy folk melodies will brighten your day and make your foot tap, just a little, just enough. After a stellar reception of his side project She & Him (with Zooey Deschanel) Hold Time will stand the test of time.

Top track: "Rave On"

#37 - Control - Pedro the Lion - 2002

Never confused for "happy-go-lucky" this band started out on a Christian label and their progression (lead by lead singer Dave Bazan) since then has been the topic of much discussion, animosity, and musical genius. Control is not for those who need some encouragement, but if you feel like you are in the mood to go to a dark, angry place for a while, pop in this album, and you might be surprised where you end up. And you'll see Bazan later on the list.

Top track: "Magazine"

#36 - Hospice - The Antlers - 2009

One of my picks for the best albums of 2009, Hospice really makes me excited about music. This emotional, moody album was inspired by the death of a friend, and beauty and tragedy are intertwined throughout. The most unpretentious album I have heard in a long time. The drawn out, slow building melodies echo and resonate throughout, culminated in a last track that nearly brought me to tears, and that was before I was paying attention to the lyrics. If you are considering buying some music, please, give this a listen, and you won't be disappointed.

Top track: "Two"

#35 - The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me - Brand New - 2006

Intense and delicate, Brand New stepped it up a level with this release, showing a real understanding of song and album structure. With a tediously handcrafted feeling, the melodies at every level surround you, and give you a few unexpected surprises. These guys have some serious talent.

Top track : "Jesus Christ"

#34 - Stockholm Syndrome - Derek Webb - 2009

Ok, so I may be a little partial to DWebb, but this ranking is legit. A departure from his previous style, yet still a logical progression, the recipe for SS calls for computer generated loops, some kick drum, and DWebb's ever improving vocals, mixed with Josh Moore's inherent awesomeness and topped with casual topics like sexuality, racism and slavery. Pop hooks abound, and the few analog missteps lend some much needed character to the album. I like this one, a lot

Top track: "Cobra Con"

#33 - On Promenade - Doug Burr - 2007

If you haven't heard Doug Burr yet, crawl out from your folk hating rock and buy this album. From Denton, TX, Doug is like a mix of Jeff Tweedy, Bruce Springstein, Bob Dylan, and fresh air. Luxurious melodies blend with the summer sunset sounds of the harmonica and the occasional banjo. His poetic and somewhat dark songwriting is without criticism. Sit back and move a bit slower to take this album in, take it on a long drive to nowhere, or curl up next to the fire with it.

Top track: "Graniteville"

#32 - Carried To Dust - Calexico - 2008

One and a half seconds into this album and you know exactly where you are, the dusty, dry Southwest. Collaboration is everything here, with standouts such as Sam Beam (of Iron & Wine), the band members themselves, and the regional influences that make up the distinctive Calexico sound, without sacrificing variety. This album stands out against a very impressive body of work, and will own its place in my library for a long, long, time to come.

Top track: "Slowness"

#31 - Vacilando Territory Blues - J. Tillman - 2009

Striking lonely, this desolate solo album by a "lone" Fleet Fox (though he was making his own music years before he joined the band) pulls you into the wilderness with its mournful melodies, Tillman's quiet harmonies, and wandering instrumentation. Seemingly always on the verge of a revelation that never quite comes, fall into this album for a few days and meander along the circular lyrics and rhythm until you remember where you are.

Top track: "Master's House"

#30 - Actor - St. Vincent - 2009

I first discovered St. Vincent over on La Blogotheque (this video in particular (and watch this one to get an idea of her range in style and ability (aaaand this one for her awesome weirdness))) very shortly before her popularity erupted. How could you not love her? She's a Texan for cryin' out loud. I like her because she makes an effort not to follow the crowd. She (Annie Clark) has been a singer for Sufjan as well as the Polyphonic Spree, and though her talents could easily land her a record deal similar to the other female vocalists in an over saturated market, she boldy steps out in a new and different direction.

Top track: "Laughing With A Mouth Of Blood" and "Marrow"

#29 - These Friends Of Mine - Rosie Thomas - 2006

A folk forerunner, Rosie Thomas exceeded expectations with Friends. As the album title might lead you to believe, most tracks include contributions from her rather large collection of musically well endowed friends. She is as cute as she is weird (she also does stand-up comedy), her somewhat comically endearing studio banter can be heard on "Why Waste Your Time?" and a few other tracks. Though she dwells on the very deep end of the indie pool, she has a formidable fan base that never fail to sing her praise. Uplifting and delicate, this album is a great pick for early morning coffee and springtime. Her psuedo-Christian themes are also very agreeable to me.

Top track: "The One I Love" (R.E.M. cover)

#28 - American IV: The Man Comes Around - Johnny Cash - 2002

What is there left to be said about Johnny Cash? He recorded the American series, mostly old folk covers, hymns, and new imaginings of pop songs from the last few decades, as he was approaching the end of his time here. His raspy voice holds the notes tenuously, and his breathy reaching comes though from time to time, and in those moments the hair on the back of your neck stands straight up in awe at the sheer magnitude that is all things Cash. His story is truly American, and his voice will forever be remembered for generations to come.

Top track: All of them, but especially "Hurt" and "We'll Meet Again" are extremely poignant.

#27 - The Animal Years - Josh Ritter - 2006

"Packs of dogs and cigarettes, for those who ain't done packing yet
I packed my clothes I want to go, to Idaho, Idaho."

"Girl in the War", the first track, sets the tone of this intimate folk opus. Beautifully arranged and executed, Ritter's voice is restrained and sweet music for the ears. His Dylanesque style of writing and structuring his songs sets this album apart from the haphazardly arranged folk albums that abound these days.

Top track: "Wolves"

#26 - Once: Music from the Original Motion Picture - 2007

Once is the dynamic duo of Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová, two musicians who made one of the best movies of 2007 about their musical collaboration. Officially known as The Swell Season, Hansard and Irglová stay true to their analog sounds, sticking to guitar and piano instrumentation with some 8-bit drum tracks thrown in. These two singer-songwriters harmonize beautifully and fill every note with emotion. Check out the film and the soundtrack to experience Once to its fullest.

FYI, The Swell Season is still collaborating, releasing a new album in late 2009.

Top track: "Falling Slowly"

#25 - Loyalty to Loyalty - Cold War Kids - 2008

Indie rockers Cold War Kids put on a hell of a good show, and put out studio albums to back it up. An energetic sophomore effort, Loyalty is a soulful-piano-laden-bass-driven-fuzzy-guitar-funky ride through more heavier themes than you'd like to jam out too. Go. Get. Jam. Enough said.

"The devil's in the details, devil's in the details
He's got your gold watch and chain..."

Top track: "Something Is Not Right With Me"

#24 - The Orion Songbook - Frontier Ruckus - 2008

A friend recommended this album to me. For three months it sat in waiting in my music library, until one glorious day iTunes intervened. This is a little known gem. A story of Midwestern restlessness and woe, this album isn't really like anything else I've heard before. Matt Milia's lyrics seem to steal the show at times, but I don't think that anyone minds. It does have a seasonal feel to it that would be best heard when there is a slight chill in the air and the nights get a little bit longer. Filled with bursts of energy and melancholy, but consistently anticipating the future, save this one for next fall for a real treat.

Top track: "The Blood"

#23 - Ongiara - Great Lake Swimmers - 2007

Another album that seemed to fall flat, Ongiara is a subtle melodic somewhat "small picture" work that pings a lot of folk's "cliché-dars", but I like to think of it as an amateur effort from an outstanding band, and for some reason, picking out the little bits of greatness from this album gives me more satisfaction that the more "well-rounded" LPs they have produced. Folksy and harmonic, warm and fuzzy, and more banjos than you knew you wanted.

Top track: "Your Rocky Spine"

#22 - ( ) - Sigur Rós - 2002

If you've never heard of Sigur Rós before, you might think this album sounds like a bunch of loud falsetto gibberish. But, if you are familiar with them then you would know that this is exactly the case. Sung entirely in a made up language of emotive vowel sounds similar to the Icelandic language, ( ) was released as an unpronounceable album title with 8 untitled tracks and a booklet of blank pages for liner notes. Whether you love or hate the gimmicks, Sigur Rós' musical landscape is much like that of their homeland, cold, vast, and breathtaking. The louder is usually the better when it comes to Sigur Rós, and while ( ) may not be their absolute best, it is their most cohesive work. Not received well in all circles, I say just listen to it and make up your own mind.

Top track: "Untitled #8" (LOUD!!!)

#21 - Transatlanticism - Death Cab for Cutie - 2003

The figureheads for indie hipsters all across our great nation, Death Cab was at their best for Transatlanticism. Though there is much debate about the merits of this album after they went "mainstream" and "sold out", I think that this is their best work. A perfectly executed journey through the ups and downs of long-distance relationships, this hi-fi masterpiece seems to have everything we love to hate about pop, except the hating it part. Released the same year as another outstanding Ben Gibbard project on the list, this is a must own for everyone, whatever your indie persuasions might be, because once you stop pretending to not care, you can't help but love Transatlanticism.

Top track: "Title and Registration"

#20 - Curse Your Branches - David Bazan - 2009

Finally, Bazan gets his due credit. Seemingly in the spotlight and yet an outcast at the same time, for the last half of a decade David Bazan been wrapped up in a personal and musical existential funk, and Curse Your Branches is the product of that ongoing experience. Bazan honestly and bluntly takes on his demons: faith, family, alcoholism, and struggling to find the meaning of his own existence. Thematically and musically, Bazan has matured greatly, from indie fuzz folk rock, into a well developed multi-dimensional musician who uses melody and variety to his advantage, and who isn't afraid of his own voice. This self-searching, very personal work is much, much easier to stomach that the constant cynicism of Pedro's Control, yet it's still extremely powerful it its questioning. It's amazing how something so hard, and so messy, can come out so beautiful.

Top track: "Bless This Mess"

#19 - Till the Sun Turns Black - Ray LaMontagne - 2006

When you think of Ray Lamontagne, you think of raspy sandpaper vocals, sweet simple melodies, airy relaxed atmospheres, and lonely love songs. Some people might criticize LaMontagne for being self-indulgent in that regard, and honestly, I would tend to agree with them. However, I don't see how being self-involved affects music in a negative way. Ever hear of Elvis? The man wore rhinestones. I include this album because it has the ability to function on two levels, the first being to take it at surface value, for the seemingly feeling-less tracks with wispy horns and strings that seem destined to be featured on a network prime-time drama (which songs frequently are) and secondly a very postmodern approach, or dismantling these songs and picking out the parts that affect you the most. His restrained technique lends itself to interpretation. And Till The Sun Turns Black doesn't really seek out attention, as you might think it would, seeing as how the demand for accessible male singer-songwriters is currently reaching an all-time high. What it is, is an album made by a guy named Ray, who might be into himself a little too much, but that breaks free of genre, time period, and, well, purpose. That's why I love it, because it doesn't feel like it needs to give me a reason to love it. I'm being played and I still like it. Huh.

Top track: "Can I Stay" or "Empty"

#18 - Rockin' The Suburbs - Ben Folds - 2001

In 2001, I was a sophomore in High School, and I can still remember listening to this album and thinking "Wow, I really like this, even though it's goofy, and I bet I'll like it even more when I'm older". Or something along those lines. Folds always brings out in me a sense of displaced maturity, like I'm too old to identify with this, or not old enough, and yet I do identify with it. Ben Folds is the epitome of "being O.K. with being something I probably shouldn't be." Like inappropriate, melodramatic, (a singer), or put in a box by genre or critics, and that's why this album endures for me. Some people see camp playfulness, some genius, but I like to see both. Yes, he is sometimes lame, but he is almost always genuine. Songs like "Fred Jones, pt 2" show his musical and lyrical maturity, and without tracks like this, you might think he is just a guy who is not good at music trying to get on the radio. All of the tracks are fun, sappy, or eloquent, and the mix of them, as well as the mix of lyrics (I still remember the first few times I was singing along to "Rockin' the Suburbs" in my car and screaming "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK" at the top of my lungs, great times for a 16 year old) is what makes a track, or an album, distinctly Ben Folds.

Top track: "Still Fighting It"

#17 - 1,000 Kisses - Patty Griffin - 2002

I'd like to think of Patty Griffin as the princess of folk music. I don't even know what that means, but I'd still like to think it. She has been making beautiful, emotional music for a long time now. She has showed her diversity again and again, but I think 1,000 Kisses is where it all came together for her. Griffin's voice takes center stage, robust and yet sensitive and perfectly controlled, she turns every syllable into poetry, every note into bliss. Simple guitars and strings fade in and out, never commandeering your attention, except a few times when the instrumentation builds to epic proportions before quickly stealing away into the background again. Her cover of Springsteen's "Stolen Car" is true to the sorrowful lyrics, and yet, as in the rest of the album, and her other work, Griffin pulls hopeful notes out of tragedy and despair. These are the songs you are happy to be sad about. Such as "Making Pies" (or as I like to substitute "lattes"), a song about nothing and everything. Every note soaks to your bones and you can't help but close your eyes and sway.

Top track: "Rain"

#16 - Noble Beast - Andrew Bird - 2009

Whistling is cool again. Or really, if you do it correctly, it's always been cool. Best described as Americana, Bird's looping wandering tracks are catchy and polished. He layers his vocals and instruments beautifully. A mix of jazz and folk and dashes of pretty much everything else thrown in, Noble Beast took a step back from the somewhat epic feeling of his previous release, Armchair Apocrypha. Bird is an extremely talented multi-instrumentalist and he shines on this album. His creative process begins with a few looped tracks and he builds them up from there, adding flowing violin tracks, some upbeat hand clapping, and of course, the whistling. His lyrics have improved over time, and Beast is full of poetic, usually playful lines that are full of imagery and misanthropy. "Post-folk" has even been coined to describe his style, and as far as I know he may be the only artist to whom this label applies.

Top track: "Natural Disaster"

#15 - Hometowns - The Rural Alberta Advantage - 2008

Usually, upon hearing of any kind music (or creative output of any kind that is not directly related to beer) from The Great White North, I get a little nauseous and my right eyes begins to twitch a bit. Here's an exception. I downloaded this album from eMusic on a whim, even though "Alberta" is clearly delineated in the band's name. Sometimes great music seems even greater when it emerges from expectations of mediocrity. The RAA (props on the acronym) come out swinging with this indie release, Hometowns, their first. These sparsely arranged pop-ish tunes swarm and scramble right at you. The drum tracks are unapologetic. The heavy acoustic guitar tracks aren't pretending to be delicate or precise. Lead singer Nils Edenloff's vocals stand out starkly in that way that lead vocalists who can't really sing tend to do. Nothing about Hometowns might be considered "refined" (the rough yet pleasant harmonies, the lo-fi mix, the electronic elements) and that is what makes this album unique. And great. Nils' lyrics go on and on about his home, Canada, and his cadence grabs and holds your attention (in a way not unlike Isaac Brock). Indie rockers, you would be remiss not to get this album as soon as you can, because these guys will be all over the radar in the very near future.

Top track: "Don't Haunt This Place"

#14 - Give Up - The Postal Service - 2003

The Postal Service is Ben Gibbard of Seattle, WA, and Jimmy Tamborello of Los Angeles, CA. In a collaborative experiment, they sent tracks they created on their own computers back and forth to each other on burned CD's via... The United States Postal Service. A major example of new age collaboration and cheap, self-made tracks that are changing today's musical landscape, Give Up is and electro-indie-pop spark of genius that is all about contrast and collaboration. Gibbard's full melodic voice clashes with Tamborello's production heavy spacey tracks, but in a peanut butter and chocolate fashion, the end result is truly delightful. The chemistry between these two is incredible, Gibbard's sincere (sometimes sappy) lyrics and intricate melodies combine with Tamborello's crackling, popping, electronic and distorted instrumental tracks to create an intoxicating effect, drawing you into a hazy hypnotic trance. Even the duet seems to work in this context, when in any other I would be running for the hills. Give Up will stand the test of time, and will always be one of my favorites, as well as an important mile-marker on the new road musical artists are trying to forge ahead on.

Top track: "The District Sleeps Alone" or "Clark Gable"

#13 - Time (The Revelator) - Gillian Welch - 2001

Gillian Welch is the proof that you don't need gimmicks, fancy e-lek-tronics, labels, distributors, or even vast personal experience, or... "qualifications" to make great music.

It seems that every artist that finger-picks a track or has the gall to pick up a banjo is immediately relegated to the desolate and unnavigable low-lands that are referred to as "country music". I'm not even sure what country music is in 2010, and I know I can't stand Nashville's bottom line ambitions, but if we are going to strip away all the associations of days past and present, then we could say that Gillian Welch plays real folk-country music, and that she respects and understands tradition, and that she approaches her music in an honest and genuine fashion. Time is really all about Welch's sincere and endearing voice, confidently carrying this music along with soft and simple guitar and superb lyrics.

This music is clear, simple, and undeniably great. No matter what your musical persuasions may be, I challenge you to listen to this album and find one ounce of pretense, of showboating, or anything unreal. Every track is spectacular. If you claim to love music, you will fall in love with this one.

Top, no, Suggested track: "I Dream A Highway"

#12 - Funeral - Arcade Fire - 2004

It is so very refreshing to come across a band (Canadian as they might be) and an album that is optimistic for a change, and unashamedly so. Funeral mourns the death and loss of loved ones and celebrates life. Why not sprinkle in some driving guitar, addictive pop beats, dynamic vocals, and lush arrangements, and you have yourself a recipe for a great album. Funeral is one of those rare works that is just good. You don't feel the need to try and flesh out metaphors or meanings, you just experience and enjoy it. It is very hard to criticize. I'll admit that, in 2004, I was still trying to figure all of this music stuff out, and at the time all of these news band names were flying at me from every direction, and I had neither the energy, nor the financial resources to investigate every lead. I only purchased this album in late 2009, and I am very glad I came back to it. Truly a great album.

Top track: "Neighborhood #3" or "Wake Up" (I am still searching for the fantastic remix created specifically for Where The Wild Things Are)

#11 - Return to Cookie Mountain - TV on the Radio - 2006

TV on the Radio is one of those groups that don't lend themselves well to the first listen. When I share a track with my friends and I ask, "What'd you think?", the response is always the same. "Weird."

Their first full length album, Desperate Youth, Bloodthirsty Babes, is one of my personal favorites, but in Return, their third full length, they really hit their stride. As soon as you pop it in (or I guess click play would be more accurate) the album begins to pick up momentum. From the awesomely weird "I Was A Lover" that is as musically dynamic as it is pitiful, to the 5th track "Wolf Like Me", a song about werewolves, and an instant interest pique for myself, that "runs" at full speed, and then breaks down to a dark melodic dirge-like pace, before taking off again, winding up like an air raid siren. The vocals of Tunde Adebimpe command respect. The song structures are somewhat repetitive, but the deep and layered vocals, loops, and instrumentation far more than make up for this fact, making the repetitive nature of the album part of their sound, and a strength rather than a weakness.

Top track: "Wolf Like Me", "I Was A Lover", and "Wash The Day Away"

#10 - Our Endless Numbered Days - Iron & Wine - 2004

Sam Beam's soothing whispers are unmistakable. Accompanied by pristine finger picked guitar and powerful melodies, some restrained background vocals and unobtrusive rhythms, Endless Numbered Days is a slow walk through a summer evening in the Texas Hill Country. From the first line "God, there is gold buried deep in the ground" to the last "A baby sleeps in all our bones, so scared to be alone" Beam's intoxicating vocals blend imagery and metaphor into an overwhelming sensation, like the warming of the sun combined with a summer breeze. This album's trademark is perfect execution and great vision. Sure to be a timeless example of beautiful songwriting.

Top track: "Sodom, South Georgia"

#9 - The Moon & Antarctica - Modest Mouse - 2000

The preeminent Debbie Downers of rock, Modest Mouse Puts out a fairly large volume of music. Diverse in some ways, but always dominated by driving force of the band, Isaac Brock. The Moon is one of those rare albums produced my a major label that is actually an album. There are few things I detest more than filler tracks. The emotions here are like the slow breaking of waves on the shore, moving aggressively forward and then slowly returning to the water. I can't think of any instruments not used in this album. Produced by Brian Deck (who also produced Our Endless Numbered Days, learning is fun!) The percussion driven, layered tracks take you to an alien place, as the album title suggests. Brock's lyrics are as bleak as ever, but somehow take on some obscene warmth, having drawn attention to our need for redemption. He neglects to mention where that might come from. His angry, sometimes malicious, vocals drive the tracks forward and demand your attention. Definitely, one of those rare albums...

Top track: "A Different City"

#8 - Veckatimest - Grizzly Bear - 2009

Grizzly Bear's mid-tempo, harmonic sound hearkens back to the golden age of American pop glory. Pet Sounds comparisons cannot be ignored or trivialized, this might be the real deal. The terrifyingly catchy "Two Weeks" is a towering megalith of perfect indie pop execution, sure to cause you to loose some sleep. Veckatimest feels like a cohesive work, conceived as a complete project, some tracks stand out and the others connect them together, like the sinew of some musical Frankenstein, an apt analogy for this tediously constructed work. The pieces don't seem to fit, or at least they wouldn't a few years ago; hi-fi production, soaring harmonies, minor key movements, slow-tempo meandering tracks, and hazy vocal and guitar effects. But, this monster lives and breathes, puts on some black rimmed glasses and heads out to an art exhibition. This album is sophisticated. Concise. With a few missteps that may or may not be there intentionally.

Top track: It has to be "Two Weeks", the most ambitious and confident thing to come out of indie music in a long time.

#7 - Ohio - Over the Rhine - 2003

Over the Rhine is Karen Bergquist and Linford Detweiler, married, unfortunately named, and two of the most... poetic people walking the planet. Ohio is dripping with emotion and creativity, heartfelt and stripped down, it defies categorization, and upon listening it quickly and mercilessly violates your preconceived notions and defenses. Only in the honest and genuine alternate reality of Ohio would lyrics like "I wanna do better / I wanna try harder / I want to believe / Down to the letter" be so horribly affecting, where as anywhere else they would just be horrible. Bergquist's voice sounds as though she is singing every note specifically for you, "Where you goin' with your suitcase?" striking a chord of guilt (and maybe suffocation?) in the listener. The honest piano, the mournful pedal steel, the embrace of the upright bass, the drunk jazz waltzes, on and on and on, Ohio exists in and of itself, like a naturally occurring phenomenon, divinely intended for us to enjoy, to collapse into on those days when our head is crowded and cloudy.

Top track: It's a double album, listen to the whole damned thing. Did I not build it up enough?

#6 - Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes - 2008

The anachronistic Fleet Foxes erupted onto the music scene with their Sun Giant EP earlier in 2008. I can't recall when an indie band has been so quickly and warmly welcomed by the world at large, which speaks volumes to the quality of their music. An amalgamation of various sounds, styles, and cultures, the Foxes have fused together a new sound that is uniquely their own, a graceful platform for them to demonstrate their intricate vocal harmonies. The opening track "Sun It Rises" opens with a old world plains folk sounding a cappella verse, and from there begins to divide and spread out into a lush and full canopy that characterizes the album. The vocals really dominate the album, and for good reason. But the instrumentation is just as complex and enchanting.

Top track: "Blue Ridge Mountains"

(This track is frequently on *bux radio, and I don't hesitate to jam out in front of coworkers and customers.)

#5 - Heartbreaker - Ryan Adams - 2000

The intro track is a somewhat quizzical recording of studio banter regarding Morrissey's discography, but after a quick 4-count we get into it. Moody and unpredictable, Adams is a pioneering force in the modern alt-country genre. One of the most prolific artists I've ever followed, Heartbreaker was his first after his band Whiskeytown went under. His vocals display a great amount of maturity and emotion, and you can almost feel the anguish of growth in his voice alone. His instrumentation is also incredible. My favorite track "Come Pick Me Up" might be the best use of harmonica and banjo I have heard in my short life. Adams might be one of the greatest singer-songwriters of our generation, on par with Elliot Smith and Jeff Buckley (or Nick Drake, whatever), but with a little more Johnny Cash thrown in. Heartbreaker is solid and endearing, and I suspect will only get better with time.

Top track: "Come Pick Me Up" or "Call Me On Your Way Back Home"

#4 - For Emma, Forever Ago - Bon Iver - 2007/08

Even if you didn't know the back story of Emma, the loneliness and isolation... and tragedy; are evident from the first buzzing string of "Flume". Written and recorded during a period of refocusing and remorse, Justin Vernon conceived much of Emma in a cabin in Wisconsin, with a few minor alterations made before the final release. The ambiance and simplicity of the record are striking and harsh, but not in an unpleasant way, much like the winter months. Vernon's hushedvocals are an instrument themselves, and his lyrics feel like an emotional cleansing. Mysterious and elusive, Emma is more powerful with every listen.

Top track: "Skinny Love" or "Blindsided"

#3 - Kid A - Radiohead - 2000

Honestly, I don't know how to begin talking about this album. It escapes me. Musical descriptions are elusive. Kid A is more of an experience than an album. More of a journey that a record. It requires a bit of backstory (i.e. OK Computer), and a significant chuck of time to appreciate it to its fullest, but at its base level, it is full of evocative, emotional, even intellectual music. This doesn't feel like a Radiohead album, in fact, its hard to imagine that people created this, even though that is purely what it is, an act of creating something from nothing. Moving through space and time, the flow is non-linear, dreamlike, and adventurous. The soundtrack to everything and yet nothing, the opposite and companion to itself, Kid A will never fully make sense, even to the band that created it.

Top track: Uh, it doesn't really work that way, but "Idioteque".

#2 - Yankee Hotel Foxtrot - Wilco - 2002

iTunes expects me to believe that this album is Rock. Maybe. Alt-Country? Sure, that too. Country? I think so. Synthesizers and xylophones and crunching bass shouldn't exclude one from the genre, they should reinvigorate it. But Rock and Roll. Yes. Very much yes. Jeff Tweedy's eccentric vocals are nothing short of pure genius, the lyrics are insane, and perfect. Tweedy rests amid a cacophonous sea of glistening, shimmering chaos. Confidence exudes thickly from every track, jumping through static like scanning through the bandwidth of some magical, fuzzy, A.M. Radio. Wilco's sonic landscape is fully imagined and vivid, crackling and popping that you feel in your bones. The last track is the epitome of the album, disjointed and in disarray, Tweedy strains "I've got reservations / About so many things / But not about you / But not about you"

Top track: "Jesus, Etc."

#1 - Illinois - Sufjan Stevens - 2005

I'll start by saying that this my favorite record in existence. No other work; music, movie, or piece of literature, has impacted me in the same way.

I first read about Illinois on a online forum. Back when I used to frequent online forums. It was still a relatively unknown work in my circles, and I honestly believe I very well may have been the first person in Nacogdoches, Texas to hear this album. At the time, I just illegally downloaded copious amounts of music from the internets, from a now defunct software program. (Don't worry, I later bought this album, and deleted anything I "obtained" that wasn't directly from a friend. Cause stealing is wrong y'all.) And so I burned the mysterious Illinois to a disc before one of my solo drives to Knoxville, TN.

I remember vividly the circumstances. I had exhausted the reserves familiar mindless pop rock that I dwelled upon somewhere around Alabama, and the sun was low in the sky behind me when I heard the first few wondrous notes of "Concerning the UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinois". As I drove, I sank further and further into the music, a totally new experience for me, busy and energetic, yet melodic and rational. His arrangements are staggeringly huge and ambitious, and incredibly successful. Illinois is a 22 track epic history lesson through the state, peppered with humorous anecdotes and serious personal explorations into his own struggles.

The second (and final) installation of an attempted project encompassing all 50 states of the union, Stevens discovers in the course of the album that he is not describing Illinois, but himself, and Illinois finishes with a kind of keen resolution, a sense of completeness, that is felt in every part or your being. The single "Chicago" is the story of two friends traveling and sleeping in a van. "John Wayne Gacy, Jr." is a beautifully executed song about a serial killer, that culminates with the most important verse of the song "In my best behavior / I am really just like him / Look underneath the floorboards / For the secrets that I hid". "Casamir Pulaski Day" is a terribly emotional tribute to a friend who died of cancer, and the feelings Stevens can't express in words, he adequately relates in the meter of his voice and a mournful trumpet solo that deals with prayers not being answered in a very definite manner. "Tuesday night at the bible study / We'd lift our hands and pray over your body / But nothing ever happens."

"The Predatory Wasp of The Palisades is Out to Get Us!" might sum up the album, Sufjan's struggles, and a little bit of what we're all feeling while embarking on Illinois. It builds and builds, repetitive notes pulsing in layers growing with Sufjan's sweet refrain "We were in love" and the line "I can't explain / The state that I'm in / The state of my heart / He was my best friend". Bringing clarity to the "state" his project was really all about. It is one of the more captivating tracks, though the album is full of wonderful songs that tug at your head and your heart.

This record violently changed the way I perceive and respond to music, and as my last.fm page reflects, Sufjan has a choke hold on the top spot in my library. Probably forever.

Vacilando

2009-10-04T21:57:00.002-05:00

Today, I got it. At about 10:30am, somewhere north of Bryan on Highway 6. The skies were overcast, my windows were down, and I was jammin' on some Menomena when it happened. Some people tend to think it is a convoluted and mysterious process but I believe it is instantaneous. It is possible that some people might mistake it for gas, but I am not some people. Nay, I am but myself, and I always know the exact second it hits. It starts in and around the mouth area, where once there was an expression of boredom (maybe due to hours of dutiful watch on the road ahead, or maybe due to one's awareness of the misconception of rugged individualism (in our time, on the open road)) there emerges a tell-tale curvature of the lips, in my case mostly on the left side, indicating an immodest change in the course of one's mental wanderings. From there, it roughly translates to an anxious nausea, a not too unpleasant, somewhat mischievous tingling somewhere in one's insides. Other symptoms include: 1) A tightening of one's grip upon the steering wheel 2) A sudden and robust gain in stereo volume 3) A healthy disdain for the posted speed limit and the safety and comfort of nearby drivers 4) Laughter, happiness, joy, sometimes dizziness, and occasionally blindness.

When it happens it's not so much a deadline that has to be met, or a scheme perfectly conceived, or even a condition to be met. It is more of an inevitability. Meaning that, in some form or fashion, someday soon, whenever soon may be, I am going to escape. To somewhere. Soon. Whenever soon may be. Not permanently, but for long enough. It's inevitable.

Miscommunication

2009-10-01T17:37:00.002-05:00

Best Customer Interaction thus far:

Me: "Pretty ominous skies out there, huh?"
Her: *looks down road* Oh my God that's so racist!"
Me: "Uh, I'm sorry, what?"
Her: "You just said those guys looked ominous."
Me: "No, I said the skies looked ominous."
Her: "Oh yeah, it's gonna rain."
Me: "Yeah."

"Plus those guys are white."
Her: "Ok, now that was racist."
Me: "..."
Her: "..."
Me: "Hey, you wanna buy some VIA?"

Runner up:
Me: "Hey how's it going?!"
Dudebro: "You got any beer?"
Me: "No, do you?"
Dudebro: "No, I'm a recovering alcoholic."
Me: "Really?"
Dudebro: "Hah! No!"
Me: "That was harsh."
Dudebro: "Yeah, I'm pretty awesome."

A response to a Facebook thread about openness.

2009-09-15T16:16:00.002-05:00

I'm going to take a crack at this. Partly because of some interesting conversations I've had recently, one with Roman Walley on a hill in the pitch black of East Texas, and the other with old friends and new friends at a Prom party for Amanda Rawlings, where I drank too much and kind of danced. But mostly because Brianne said 'hell'.

Two months ago I was done. Done with everything. There have been times before in my life where I thought to myself that I had reached rock bottom, the end of my rope, or whatever tired cliche best expresses desperation in that context, but I had not yet been as lonely as I was now, in Houston, Texas, suffocated by glass and steel, working a part-time job, struggling to exist. I felt betrayed by my friends, let down by the teachers and institutions that prepared me for life, and ignored by my God. I was acutely aware of how little I had, and how exhausting it is to apply for jobs and never hear a single word back in return, day after day after day, for over nine months. This was not what life was supposed to be. I felt angry at everyone who lied to me up until that point, telling me everything was going to be easy and fine. Things were not easy and I did not feel fine in the slightest.

I was weary of constantly trying to hold my head above water. Still I had some twisted sense of accomplishment from failing on my own accord. Time moves surprisingly fast when you stop caring. I stopped going to Community Group. Stopped talking to friends. Stopped twitttering, blogging, and speaking unless necessary. I was shut off from everything and everyone, occupying some existence on the edge of reality.

In general, most of us like to think of life as laid out in milestones and landmarks. We continue in one direction until some great event, moving speech, convicting sermon, or epic game of Pictionary alters our course. I am frequently reminded life, or more importantly God, doesn't work that way. Again, I feel the need to take control of my own life so I go out and try to provide opportunities for God to work. I drive around the now familiar loops of this city, usually in the rain (for clearly God prefers to work in the rain), waiting for... something. Some violent correction of my heart's condition, hopefully by means of lightning strike so I have a cool story to tell later. Remarkably, I did not end up on my knees in a field screaming at the sky.

The process of coming to understand one's own idolatry is not convenient or pleasant by any means. I have no clue how or why I eventually came to understand what I did other that I have been praying for in incessantly for months and months. There is a certain point there though, a sort of decisive moment, where one becomes aware that he has elevated himself to a position above all others in his own world, including his Creator. I was foolish in my striving to save my own skin when I am wholly incapable of doing such. Grossly arrogant in my assumption that I had nothing at all when I had been given everything. And selfish in my attempts to deprive God and His people from helping me to understand my own sin.

As I began typing this there was a knock at the door. It seems my rent check did not clear, and I owed near $200 in penalties because my bank account was $18 short at the moment the complex tried to cash the check. I now have less than $50 to my name, with payday 10 days away. My oil needs to be changed, my inspection is expired, and Comcast just sent me my second notice.

Yet I find myself, for the first time in such a long time, so very happy to be alive. The world views me as poor, though I am rich. Rich beyond measure. I don't mean to say that I do not have goals. I think there is a good chance that one day I will find a woman who loves me, and I hope I am capable of loving her back. I plan on raising a few genius yet underachieving children. I plan to one day own a monkey. But for now I will not be discontent with the petty issues that strive to occupy my energy, and I will instead spend my few remaining dollars on a Chipotle burrito and maybe give the tortilla girl a wink, and I will come home and rejoice in the insignificance of my money, my reputation, my potential, and my failures, and be grateful for the bounty of what I have been given and all that I have the capacity to give.

Also I will have a beer, methinks.

i(hate)Robot

2009-07-16T09:26:00.004-05:00

SO, some guys at Community Group brought this to my attention:

Upcoming Military Robot
(I know its a FoxNews link which it typically forbidden but its sensationalism is on par with my apprehension in this one instance, so, I'll allow it.)

SO, we've arrived. The beginning of the end. The internet is filled with freaky robot videos, like this one, BIGDOG:

The two things that frighten me most in the world are:
1) Taking my shirt off in public.
2) Robots

They are evil. Now we are giving them the tools they need to turn us into food? Did anybody even see The Matrix? Maximum Overdrive? All it takes is one comet flying close to Earth and its lights out for everybody. Literally. Because the robots would turn off the lights.

The reason I bring any of this to your attention is not to try and change things, I'm sure it's too late for that. But when the apocalypse comes, and robots turn us into slaves, I want you to think back and say "Man, we really should have listened to Paul on this one. He was right. I hope the robots don't find him."

You'll be saying that last part because I will have long since high-tailed it to a remote "robot-free zone" somewhere yet TBD. Although I couldn't say anyway, as robots are probably reading this already.

SO, please, Robot Lovers, please don't flaunt your techno-romances so proudly, or one day you might find yourself being chased down by BIGDOG for fuel for EATR so it can make it to the big robot music awards event that night at the spot where the national mall USED to be.

P

Long Time No Blog

2009-07-12T12:57:00.003-05:00

For some reason this weekend I have actually had the energy and the will to get things done. Well, some things, in the interests of full disclosure, laundry desperately needs laundering and I really don't want to do it. I'm very close to declaring a state of emergency.

I hung all the things that needed hanging in my bedroom, cleaned and organized the rest of the house, and finally finished setting up the sound in the living room. I love my system. Not the system itself, which was the cheapest Pioneer I could buy at Wal*Mart in 2005, but more so my set-up. I have audio inputs for my Mac, iPod, and Xbox, and everything else runs through pretty much everything else. It's really quite an impressive fire hazard. I'm not really even sure what I did, but it works for the most part, so I am happy. The place looks nice, smells a little funky but if you brew enough coffee it doesn't really matter. I am really satisfyed when things work the way I want them to.

Work is going really really well. I had to go through a slight/not-so-slight attitude adjustment about a week ago, but I am much more positive now. I came off of a 10-day Starbucks marathon on Friday, which was incredibly exhausting, but I got a second wind around Day 6 that got me through it.

I'm spending more time with Kaleo peeps, which is awesome, although I still have trouble making it to Sunday morning service. I get to hang out with work friends as well, last night we went to a show @Warehouse Live where our old ASM Kevin's band thelastplaceyoulook was playing. I love live music, I like the band, it's awesome seeing a friend play a live show, and by the end of the night my ears hurt worse than I can remember. Totally worth it.

Lastly, I'm getting in touch with some grad schools and intership opportunities. Here's my thoughts, I can go to any grad school on a list of about 500 for free, why not go to one that is somewhere awesome like the West Coast?? I'm even toying with the thought of Alaska Pacific in Anchorage. I ended up with a decent GPA, maybe not good enough to get into Pepperdine or USC, but good enough to make them think about it for a while. So, in 2010 there's a more and more likely chance I might bail on the great state of Texas, if only for a couple of years. I love my job, but I don't feel like it is what I want to be doing forever, even though I am there now for a reason. I'm not in a rush though, and that is a nice feeling.

Super...

2009-05-10T20:29:00.005-05:00

My effin' bike got stolen.

Update: I think I saw a homeless guy riding it on Westpark the other day...

Coming to Terms

2009-04-11T17:09:00.006-05:00

A week ago I had what was probably one of the worst weeks ever. Here's a brief run-down:

Monday: An unsatisfied customer threw a turkey sandwich at me and told me I ruined her day.
Tuesday: I got a summons to appear for jury duty in Nacogdoches, which at least I now know I can get out of.
Wednesday: I stupidly stabbed myself in my left hand while making guacamole.
Thursday: Worked all day with while my hand throbbed and I wondered if I would need to visit a hospital.
Friday: I hit a pedestrian walking along Kirby because I was stressed and careless and was late to my birthday dinner in Waco because of Houston traffic.
Saturday: In Waco...
Sunday: I left Waco early to meet a realtor at a property and she didn't even show up.
Monday: My birthday and also my worst day ever at work, and everyone could tell, and stood up by homeowner who was arrested for parking tickets.

Needless to say I haven't had the best attitude recently. That list is partly hilarious but mostly sad. To add to that, a job I was sure I would get never got back to me or accepted my calls, and I still need to find a living situation with drastically reduced rent to be able to actually save some money.

So life goes on... I spend a lot of time daydreaming about being on the road headed west, jobs I don't have, and friends far away. The optimist would see a world full of oportunities, so that's how I'm chosing to look at it. Focusing on the little victories everyday instead of the worst of things. It's hard when everything seems to be going wrong all at once, but it's not really all that bad.

Working for the... Crap, I have to work this weekend too.

2009-01-27T23:06:00.003-06:00

Have you ever thought about how backwards our system is?

I have. In passing a few times, but never really in depth. Until now. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for any work at this point in time, especially when I look around and see people losing their jobs left and right, but I am in shock at the actual amount of work I have to do. I thought this was going to be easy! Psh. It seems like our collective pay scale is reversed. Those who do the most work, manual labor, construction and such, have limited earning potential. If you sit in a chair and make phone calls and sign papers, you can make millions.

The older I get, the more I appreciate hippies.

I think I am just upset because I have the distinct pleasure of making coffee during the Superbowl. But all work is dignified, right? Unless you're like a prostitute or a member of the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

When It's Good, It Doesn't Seem So Bad

2009-01-18T20:53:00.004-06:00

What a difference a week makes. Last Sunday at this time I was unemployed, I didn't have a degree and I was wondering what life was going to be like back in Waco or Nac or Korea. But on Monday, I called the registrar at SFA and found out they were posting my degree as I was on the phone. So, great, Step 1: Graduate from college. Check. On Wednesday I was encouraged to call Starbucks back and plead for a job again. And wouldn't you know that it worked! I went in for training the next day and on Friday.

Also, I was reinstated on cat duty and was able to have some really good conversations with my neighbor. On Wednesday I went to a Kaleo Community Group with Rustin and Amanda, which was really good. Anytime I meet new people I am incredibly intimidated but they went out of their way to make me feel welcome, and I hope to continue going. I went to Kaleo this morning, which is the first time I have been to a Sunday morning service in what seems like a very long time. The worship was the best part for me. Sorry Grace and Crosspoint, but your worship is... not good. It was so refreashing to focus on the words, and have them all make sense and really feel like worship. The last year or two at CP I feel like all we did was sing about fire and mountains. It was more of a show than worship.

And today... today... I took a nap. It really is amazing how much hard work not working is. Every day I find more places and things near my house and around town. I keep getting to meet new people, and I can focus on making the most of my everyday life when I'm not swamped with deadlines, projects, and responsibilities. Life is good. Tomorrow we remember Dr. King, then inaugurate Barack Obama as the 44th President of the United States. I hope its safe to say that life goes on as usual but there are a lot of things to celebrate. I miss my friends heading back to Nac and I wish them the best of luck. Here's to getting ready for forever...

Tuesday Night Show

2009-01-14T12:33:00.003-06:00

Yesterday I woke up with a plan. Continue writing thank you notes, make a grocery list, get a gigantic and satisfying burrito from Chipotle to fight off the cereal and ramen blues, get groceries, ride bike, sit around for the rest of the day.

I made it to the burrito, but I got a call from a friend with some very bad news. The had been a Maccident. There was a SWOD and the death pangs of a hard drive. We spent the rest of the afternoon trying to rescue files and trying to figure out how to use a portable hard drive while switching between Mac and WinXP platforms. Not fun. Eventually we worked something out which involved migrating his account to my Mac. It's like a homeless shelter for a while.

They invited me to a show at notsuoH downtown. Their friends Marty and Christine (who's house their community group meets at, and where I hope to go tonight) were playing along with 5 other bands. MC/VL, Unicorn Basement, Wabash, and Y Lime?. It was very Indie. I like that. At a few points it was a little too indie, but I can overlook that. The Dee Use were very cool. I guess you would call them a post-rock noise band? Very ambient atmospheric stuff. MC/VL are two white rappers from Minneapolis! They put on a fun show, had some clever lyrics, and some sweet samples. Wabash is a guy on a keyboard and was definately the most indie thing there. I think he has some real skill at songwriting if he would embrace it a bit more. There was another band going on later but we left because it was getting very late... and it was Tuesday.

DeVotchKa is the next show on the list. They are coming to Warehouse Live February 9. I'm going to the show with some good friends. Get in on this if you want, should be a great live show.

Week 4

2009-01-12T11:34:00.005-06:00

Today I am anxiously awaiting to hear from the Registrar's Office at SFA to see if I can move on with my life or if I have to take another class. I am ready to be done. I'd rather french kiss a cobra than deal with SFA for a few more months. They don't make much easy, which is amazing considering the amount of people that actually want you to do well and will help you out.

The job search continues to be lame. What was I thinking? An art degree. I'd like to send a message to to kids out there: Kids. Don't follow your dreams. If you do, you're an idiot. Don't do what you want to do, do what will get you a job. It's not selling out. OK, it is, but would you rather be a sell out who can afford to eat something other than ramen noodles or would you rather be a non-conformist who gets stabbed in a back alley for your jacket and shoes?

This weather is keeping me sick, but I've started ride my bike to get out of the apartment and get some air, sun, and exercise. I rode over to Rice and I think I'll keep going over there. The campus is gorgeous and the students are cool. Trendy nerds. I want to ride over to Relient to see if there is anything interesting or if it is all blocked off. And once I build up some stamina I can follow the trail by the bayou to Med Center, Hermann Park, and the museum district.

Because of my restricted budget I had to buy cheaper coffee. Cheap coffee is terrible. All of it. I miss Java Jacks. Thats all I wanted to say.

Great.

2009-01-06T17:30:00.005-06:00

I woke up at 6am because I couldn't sleep. It was time to accept that I was sick and start dealing with it. I WebMD'd my symptoms and wouldn't you know it, I actually was sick. The hypochondriac in me was elated. Now I know I have strep throat, and that I barely have enough energy to type. Today was going to be a productive day. Oh well.

Context

2008-12-25T00:49:00.006-06:00

I woke up this morning to my phone buzzing across the nightstand. Coping with the decreased brain function and aggravation I answered the phone and tried to sound as normal as possible, only to avoid the embarrassment of being discovered sleeping in until 11am. The tell-tale sign of the adolescent and the unemployed. Myself being the latter.

I try but fail.

It was my neighbor from two doors down. A few days earlier I was recruited to cat duty. Responsibilities include: feeding and scooping up for a cat that refuses to accept the fact that, yes, I can see it hiding behind that ficus and, no, I don't care enough about it to walk the five steps it would take to pet or annoy it. Apparently, my services were no longer needed and I was to relinquish my key, immediately, which meant getting out of bed.

I put enough clothes on to look presentable but remained disheveled enough as to appear unpleasant and inconvenienced. Reluctantly, I made the trek across the walkway above the always eerily desolate courtyard, ceding the key and returning to my apartment to process the nugget that I was found upon consideration to be unworthy of pouring kibble into a bowl every other day for said cat. As the door closed behind me, the contrast from the bright sunlight to my unlit apartment left me momentarily blinded.

You see, as I was starting my daily routine the morning previous to this one, all electrical appliances and lights stopped working the precisely the same time. (Luckily about 5 seconds after the coffee maker finished brewing breakfast). "What an odd coincidence...", I thought to myself, not yet fully aware of the degree of how totally screwed I was.

* * *

My head is throbbing. Apparently, reading by candlelight was a terrible idea. The constant flickering of the flame has somehow been appropriated by the rods and cones in my eyes and the room is bouncing around not unlike an episode of The Price Is Right on an ancient TV set. I think I hear... is that Ben Folds?? It is. But not good. Like if Ben Folds was playing piano sloshed and he's missing a few fingers. Where is that coming from?? Have I eaten today?? I don't think I have. It's hot and cold in here at the same time. Where am I, even? Oh, I'm on the couch. I need to sleep.

* * *

Today the cold is gone. The sun came out. For about an hour. It was the best hour I have spent in this city.

* * * * *

I have become frustrated with my own apathy. I am discontent with my hypocrisy. I am too often the antagonist, never the encourager. I am dissatisfied with silence. I am dissatisfied with noise.

I'm taking a new tack. I'm looking for a new perspective. I'm searching for a new confidence. It's my goal to have no new regrets.

* * * * *

The power is back on. The pizzas unfroze and the milk went bad. The courtyard is still quiet. The city is dark and wet. All pavement and steel and lights. The cars drive around in circles and the towers stand like time. Driving next to the Metro I made eye contact with a woman by the window. I smiled. She smiled back. And waved. Just barely. And I didn't feel so alone anymore.

* * *

The newsman predicts more rain.

Donde esta la Homeless Shelter?

2008-11-17T18:17:00.004-06:00

So, something rather interesting had just been brought to my attention. Apparently, a combination of stress, caffeine, nicotine, roommates who play Guitar Hero until the wee hours of the morning, more stress, a constant state of nausea (and therefore a lack of nutrition), and overwhelming anxiety may result in the most vivid and disturbing dreams you have experienced in your entire life, ever, ever.

Over the past few weeks my dreams have been more real and memorable than since I can remember. Some have clear metaphors that I can actually pick up on the next day. Some are completely apenuts and if there are metaphors hidden there... I'm just not capable of grasping them. Most, though, are incredibly weird. My favorite thus far was about a week ago.

Fun dream fact #1: My dream was in Spanish.
Important supporting fact for fun dream fact #1: I don't really know Spanish.

In this dream I am suffering from an insatiable case of wanderlust (as usual) so I take off to Mexico to visit a friend.

Fun dream fact #2: I don't know anyone in Mexico.
Yet, in stress-induced dream world, my non-existent compadre owns an expansive villa overlooking the ocean.

Fun dream fact #3: Regardless of mi amigos perceived wealth... they felt it was necessary to take every possession I own, including the clothes off of my back, and I then end up homeless, devoid of any dignity, surviving by eating raw abalone and living in a cave beneath a bar in Acapulco...

That is good TV. So I'm not really complaining. Cracked out dreams are better than, well, crack.

Top of the Update

2008-10-25T10:04:00.003-05:00

Normally on Saturday mornings I like to sleep in. It's a luxury I really look forward to during the week. I can remember back to a couple years ago when I could sleep til noon or later with no problem whatsoever. But now that I'm approaching 23 years old, I'm lucky if I can make it til 10AM, so those extra two hours are even more precious. I knew today was going to be a bad day when my wonderful neighbors fired up their chainsaws a 8'o clock sharp and proceeded to mutilated the oldest, prettiest oak that I can see from the window above my desk. I think of it as a metaphor for my last weeks in Nacogdoches.

In a couple months I will be packing my things, loading them up and heading to the great, overcrowded, over-humid city of Houston, Texas. The job search is now in full swing, and my standards for jobs and living conditions are following the same patterns as our ever craptastic economy. Maybe the economy is trying to move to a new city?

My last semester at SFA has been a whirlwind of work, illness, negotiable responsibilities, new friendships, road trips, and poor decision making. There was the best backpacking trip I've ever had in the Ozark National Forest, a few concerts, good conversations, and now, coming to terms with the fact that I have a BFA show to put together and a job to find, lest I end up back in Waco.

Here is a list of my greatest fears at the moment:
1)Having to move back to Waco
2)Failing a class before graduation
3)Failing to support myself n Houston and having to move back to Waco
4)Werewolf ghosts
5)Failing a class, moving back to Waco, and being haunted by werewolf ghosts

Life is coming at me whether I like it or not. I keep asking God to provide me a job that makes at least 50,000 a year but I don't think He appreciates my humor.

Some good things to report, in less than two weeks Barack Obama will be the next president, according to everything I see everywhere, and even if the country continues to spiral into oblivion I will at least feel better about life in general. Today is scary movie saturday, which involves renting not so good horror movies and watching them for at least 8 straight hours. To counteract my current stress load I have been consuming massive amounts of music, which makes my heart happy and takes me to a place other than Nacogdoches.

In a little while, I'll have an apartment all to myself. Where I control all aspects of my environment. If you know me... you know that nothing could make me happier. I can live somewhere clean!!

6) Moving to Houston and somehow being stuck with more roomates who don't clean a damned thing and are also werewolf ghosts.

Now, I'm off to kill the rest of the half pot of coffee I made to keep me from killing someone and ponder the movie selection for the day and if there is an appropriate progression from one film to the next or if you just throw them all in together.

Houstonians, you are charged with recommending good places to live. I found a moderately priced place called The Fountains at Almeda. But something cheaper would be, well, a good idea.
Also if you would like to make a commitment today to house me whenever I go broke I will promise to cook all your meals and spend the rest of my free time retrofitting your place with the most up to date werewolf ghost security...

Things to avoid.

2008-10-08T13:58:00.003-05:00

Cave monsters...

W8t, srsly?

2008-09-04T10:01:00.004-05:00

I researched the Rep. VP Pick the other night. Here are some articles I found, well, disturbing...

Palin vs. Polar Bears.

Palin wants to ban books.

Palin bucks Republican interests, after she takes their money.

Attacking Community Organizers?? What is wrong with you!!

In a Nutshell.

2008-08-30T11:55:00.005-05:00

Politics is always a hot topic of discussion during an election season. It's a time when people from all walks of life get involved in a process bigger than they are, and they bring their own unique perspective along with them.

I often get asked whether I am a Democrat or a Republican, and I always respond with neither. The follow up is usually something like, "Oh, You're and independent," and at that point I'm obligated to say, No, I am not. I am a Christian.

To quote Derek Webb, my first allegiance is not to a flag, a country, or a man, it's to a king and a kingdom. I don't align myself with a party, interest group (especially "Christian" lobbys), person, or platform; I align myself with the person of Jesus.

The simple fact of the matter is that many of us have been blessed by being born into a country with so many liberties as the United States, and one of those liberties is the privilege to cast a ballot in favor of the person we believe should be the leader of our country.

So when I go to vote, I am looking for the candidate who aligns himself with Jesus. I am looking for the one who is looking out for the least among us. Who feeds the hungry, clothes the naked, and tends to the sick. Jesus was never about hot topic issues, or even politics. He was about taking care of those who couldn't take care of themselves.

Many church leaders like to point out that if Jesus was physically here today teaching us, He would not be in our churches, lecture halls, or great institutions, but out on the streets, where the people are who need him the most. "It is not the healthy who require a doctor, but the sick; I did not come to appeal to the righteous, but to sinners."

So, what then are Christians supposed to do? Not vote? Maybe. If you are so fed up with the system that you believe no good will ever come out of it, you might want to refrain from the process. We are certainly not obligated to participate in politics. But when we do decide to exercise our freedoms and get plugged in, we then become obligated to find the candidate who is NOT looking out for us, but for our neighbor. Is that not one of the main messages of the gospel? Why should we forgo this teaching when it comes to politics and look out just for ourselves. The American government will never be an extension of the church, we have laws in place to prevent that from happening, but there is nothing to stop it from advancing the cause of Jesus in helping to reach out to those who are unreachable.

Lastly, this election year I myself will choose the candidate who makes an effort to measure up to this criteria. I believe Jesus loved peace, so I look for the candidate who also loves peace. I believe Jesus loved God's creation, so I look for the candidate who will be a good steward of that. I believe Jesus wants us to give out of not only our surplus, but our need, so I look for the candidate who plans to help those who are more needy than I am. And I believe that most of all Jesus loves us. People. All of us. On both sides of the aisle. Red States. Blue States. Rich. Poor. Our friends. And even our enemies.

The day the person shows up to proclaim all of these things will be a good day for all of us, but until then we have to make do with what we have. And what we have is an inheritance stored up for us in heaven; that no one, no Republican or Democrat or foreign aggressor, can take away from us. We are taken care of. There are so many out there who aren't.

In the end I love watching the political process because of how it reflects the human condition. Politics is the art of perception. It's amazing to watch, really. Two sides in a desperate struggle to gain power, who spend countless hours crafting the perfect statement to move a few people out of the other column and into theirs.

*Disclaimer* After this point I am speaking on a completely personal level.

I became a supporter of Barack Obama sometime last November. The reason I did so was because I believe most of what I just said, although that doesn't mean everyone should believe the same way I do. He has been dismissed by his opposition as a person of lofty rhetoric and no substance, lacking experience, and walking the party line. But, among his supporters, there is something more going on than the traditional partisanship we are so used to. There is a stirring, a movement coming about. But it is not really about Obama. The reason people flock to him is not because he is a celebrity, but because he has become a symbol. He represents everyone in this country who feels trapped in a system slowly spiraling downward. A generation of young people wo have read about the New Deal in their text books but have never seen anything like it in their lifetime. Obama tapped into that key human emotion, that if we all work together, and work hard, we can become somthing greater than we already are. That we don't have to coast through this life doing nothing, preserving the status quo, but that we can come together as a nation of people who are as diverse as can possibly be, and be good.

But whatever happens, we as Christians know, that God works all things to His own end. And as with any election there are going to be losers and there are going to be winners, but when all is said and done we are still a community. Friends may support different candidates, which could cause some friction. Families can be divided (trust me on this one). And many arguement could be had about who is right and who is wrong. But we are still family. All of us. The family of humanity. And something as cheap and petty as politics should never divide us. Because politics are not everything. Neither is patriotism. Or liberty. We're all looking for something bigger than ourselves, and if we really cared, then we could focus on the things that unite us, rather than the things that tear us apart.

I Got Chills....

2008-08-03T22:49:00.005-05:00

Today we had quite the thunderstorm in East Texas. Our modem got fried, but I just spoke to a nice Indian woman who helped me get Amit's modem hooked up and working. I also fixed the dishwasher tonight. I had to use a screwdriver and everything. But that is not why I am writing; I have a story to tell.

Anytime there is any form of rain in Nac you are pretty much guaranteed to find me out on the porch enjoying the free show. I feel at peace when it is storming outside. I am comforted by the slow rumble of the thunder and the dizzying flashes of lightning. I have skipped class to stay home during a storm before. You know, I even have radar on my google homepage to keep me updated. So, needless to say, I saw today's storm coming a couple hours beforehand, and I was anticipating it's arrival. When it finally got here I abandoned the broken dishwasher and stepped outside for a while.

It felt great. It cooled from nearly 100 degrees down to 70 in just a few minutes. It lasted a good long while, the rain making it misty and cool, and the smell... Man I love that smell. There was plenty of thunder and lightning to go around as well. From what I could see from our porch (which isn't too far thanks to all the pine trees) it was just cloud to cloud lightning, very pretty and not dangerous unless you are in a plane or are a seagull.

I was sitting back in the chair Brown Bear forgot to take with him to Houston, and I remember the hair on the back of my neck standing up. I had the most distant thought that when that happened you were supposed to do something, but before I could form a rational idea of what was going on, there was a flash. It was red and white. Almost immediately came the crack, louder than just thunder, it was more of a crash. I felt heat on the left side of my body. My instinctual reaction was to curl into a ball and protect my head. My heart rate shot through the roof.

I thought maybe I had just freaked out because of the sound, but I looked to my left, to the neighboor's yard, wondering what I might see. I mean I halfway expected the entire area to be a smoldering crater, and halfway expected there to be nothing at all. It looked like someone had thrown a dozen bags of leaves into the air and they were all falling down. There is a tree about 20 feet away from the porch that is (or was) covered in ivy. The tree was struck, and it exploded, ripping a strip of bark and wood from the side facing the porch. The leaves in the air were the leaves of ivy that were blown off of the side of the trunk.

When I got up I could barely stand, there was singed bark on the porch, and even in my chair. Apparently it had hit me and I was so scared I didn't even notice. It launced pieces of wood over our house and into the driveway. A few minutes later, Amit and I were standing outside when another tree on Pearl street was hit, scaring us both back inside. I have been skydiving before, and that gives you a heck of an adrenaline rush, but after nearly getting struck by lightning I was high for a couple hours. I shook for a long time.

I. Almost. Died.

It.Was. Awesome.

The left side of my face feels hot like I got sunburned. I can't believe it actually happened. Here is the tree:
I thought I was dead.

Everyone keeps asking me if I learned my lesson.

And, No. I absolutely did not.

Local on the 8's

2008-07-21T20:04:00.005-05:00

It's OK. I'm fine. Please, stop calling the police. It is once again safe to take some time for yourself and stop worrying about little old me. Maybe you can even start showering again, who knows? Surprise! What I thought would be a nice relaxing summer term turned out to be a ball busting workload with little to more frequently NO free time, a 6:45 alarm with only one snooze allowed, sunburns, late nights at work, and sometimes spending 16 consecutive hours in the cold dark meat locker that is the Digital Lab.

But that was Summer I. Now, it is Summer II. I still have a pesky 8am class, but the difference is now I can go home at noon and STAY HOME! I'm taking Book Arts which isn't really my favorite area, but it seems to be an interesting enough class. After this, I only have three left in the fall before gradgeashun.

I started a very shallow search for jobs around the country and I gotta be honest here, the prospects are not so hot. I am confident that I can come up with some sort of job, so I know I won't be out on the street, but the careers that I would actually like to pursue out there are few and far between. Apple has a few jobs for recent grads, but they are all related to computer programming, C++ and all that jazz. Accounting and Marketing jobs abound. Creative design? Nuh uh. Printing solutions? Nope. Imaging specialist? Zilch. What to do?! Olan Mills.... here I come. I did see that there was a photo studio in the San Francisco Bay area that had some openings. I love everything about photography except actually tripping the shutter. It's just not my favorite thing to do. Working at a studio would be my last choice, unless the do in house printing, then I am all over it! Also, as many of you know... I don't like kids. Other people's kids I mean. I like my friends kids. I'd much rather work with animals than toddlers. That's a conundrum... Portrait photographer for kids... or poisonous snake handler?...

...

Alright, today my goal is to begin to build a resume, get a ton of work done on Rustin's website, do laundry, and pick up dry cleaning. I am telling you this because I think it is hysterical how much I plan to get done in a day and how much I usually end up doing. It happens everyday and everyday is the same. I find it pretty funny. It makes me chuckle. The environmental factors are good for a productive work day. I have a clean room, it's raining outside, and there is nothing good on TV. I forecast an 70% probability of getting things done. With a slight chance of isolated playstation showers throughout the afternoon and evening. Today's high is 76 and the low is... 76. I really should stop watching the weather channel.

A Blog Is Born

2008-06-10T20:07:00.003-05:00

!ATTENTION!

If anyone is remotely interested; I helped create a blog for our class' Summer project. You can check out what we are doing day to day, as well as marvel at my continued blogging skillz.

Nacogdoches Now and Then: Rephotographing the Oldest Town In Texas

Enjoy! Leave comments! Remember, this is a class project. Please don't buy me another semester here. I am ready to leave!

When God Closes a Door...

2008-06-05T12:18:00.003-05:00

...He offers you a job so you can pay those people back that closed the door on you earlier cause you already spent that money...

In addition to being the lab guy, now I will be working for one of the Art History profs, Dr. Lewis, doing all the scanning and image processing for his classes. Though I will be investing more time into my already busy summer, it will provide a MUCH needed source of additional income and more importantly, experience for the real world.

Canned

2008-05-29T12:58:00.004-05:00

This morning I received an e-mail from the people whose wedding I was hired to photograph, along with bridals and engagements. Apparently, I do not have enough experience, they did not like the engagements, and they expect a refund.

I would not be too upset normally, I handle rejection well, I am no stranger to it. When they first approached me, I told them that I was not comfortable with the idea, and that I have very little experience with weddings and have never photographed one by myself. BUT, this family convinced me to do it, offering encouragement with a friendly demeanor. I expected an extremely modest fee because I was doing it for a friend. I explained my concerns about me not having enough experience, about having limited time to take on this venture, and that I expected a lot of feedback about what they would like and how I can improve. At the time, they were very generous, offering a price far, far higher than I was expecting, and telling me they were glad to give me the chance to gain some experience, and seemed all too friendly.

Over a month after they saw the rough proofs, I received no further communication until today, where I was informed I was no longer needed. There is a difference between being rejected and being led on and snubbed. I am embarrassed. I put probably 8 hours of work into the photos alone, not to mention the drive to where they were for the engagements. I feel abused, and ashamed. I am legitimately offended by these people. Lesson learned I guess. Be wary of kind words. Needless to say, I gave them their money back in its entirety along with their pictures. Not my problem anymore and they can get on with their day, which should go perfect. What a great way to wake up and start the day. No more business with friends. Every time I have attempted it I have been burned. It's a bad idea, folks, don't do it. Today is a mopey day.

After I get over the hurt feelings, I also realize that now not only do I not have enough for the tent I was saving up for, but am not struggling to cover the cost of the trip I just went on, as they had payed me in advance. I really just want to cuss. Piss.

Epic Sorta

2008-05-27T17:17:00.004-05:00

We are back.

I am safely and comfortably back in my cozy room. It is even cozier because the floor is covered by pretty much all the clothes I own. I haven't worked up the energy to sort out the daunting amount of laundry yet. For all of its oppressiveness, Nacogdoches was a welcome sight. I know the streets here. I know where to find stores, food, and friends. And we have a shower. Showers are good.

My first "epic" road trip turned out to be an "epic" learning experience. Presented in list form, in no particular order.

1)
"I soon realized that no journey carries one far unless, as it extends into the world around us, it goes an equal distance into the world within."
-Lillian Smith
I learned that for a journey to actually take you somewhere, you have to create space. What we did was compress it. Every minute we were traveling, seeing, or getting some much needed rest. There was no room to grow, no space outside the lines. If you are constantly moving, then whatever you are looking for is never going to catch up with you, or you will pass right by it.

2)
"The traveler sees what he sees, the tourist sees what he has come to see."
-Gilbert K. Chesterton
I hate gift shops. Every. Single. One. They are all the same. I traveled thousands of miles to end up in the same exact room everywhere I went. I only went into them because I needed post cards and a gift for my parents. Where ever the tourists are, thats where I don't want to be. I couldn't bring myself to walk around Los Angeles or San Francisco with my clunker of a camera. I want to be anonymous, mysterious, of unknown origin, not a cliche. There is a time for the touristy things. I have no idea when it is, certainly not now. Whenever you see cameras and faces turned, question whether there is really something there to see, or what it really is they are looking at.

3)
"Thanks to the Interstate Highway System, it is now possible to travel across the country from coast to coast without seeing anything."
-Charles Kuralt
Always, always, ALWAYS, take the back roads. Always. They may not be faster, but they have more to offer.

4)
"A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving"
-Lao Tzu
This was the biggest mistake I feel I made. Lists are NO GOOD. I promise you. If you want a vacation then plan away and be specific, but if you want to go, then leave your itinerary at home with half the stuff you wanted to pack. The only thing you need is to be willing to experience where you are headed, to experience life on the road. I will remember this. You should to. No dates. No reservations.

5)
"It is not down in any map; true places never are."
-Herman Melville
It doesn't matter where you go if you are going just to go. I now believe this even stronger than I did before. Places are experienced by the individual. They are subjective. They are personal. They are tied to the nature of our character, our desire, our happiness, our fears and our failures. I truly believe, your latitude and longitude at any given time have absolutely no impact on anything besides the weather. If you are trying to find God, or yourself, you are never going to find it on a map. This is a very hard thing to learn. I love maps; I love to just look at them. But I think I look at them a little bit differently now. The word "map" means something a little bit different now. I can't quite explain it.

So, fellow aspiring adventurers, learn from my mistakes. I am not done. I am more prepared for the next time, or less prepared, depending on how you look at it.

There were a few spots along the way where I found some peace and quiet, and had some space to think and pray. A boulder in New Mexico with a view that stretched for miles and miles. A pier in San Francisco that was deserted on a Monday by everyone except the seagulls. Among the reeds of a lake in Utah, the sky cold and threatening rain. After dark in Colorado beside a river swollen from freshly melted snow. These little escapes are worth all the world to me. Much like my back porch, when it is raining in the forest, with a mug of tea, and the quiet buzz of a student-less city, much softer than the deafening silence of the desert.

Hi. It's me. I'm in LA.

2008-05-14T20:58:00.003-05:00

We made it to Los Angeles.

Not much time to write. Everything is go go go, then stop.... go, go, go, then stop. Unfortunately the stops usually occur in the desert where, surprisingly, there is no cell phone service or wireless internet. What gives?? I have stolen a few seconds away on this porch. The weather is amazing. I put my feet in the Pacific today. It was like when a blacksmith is beating on some red hot piece of iron and then puts it in the bucket and all the steam comes up. That is what I felt. And, it was really cold.

The desert made its impression on me. Not at all what I was expecting. Desert towns are, amazing. I love it. And the deep blue Pacific.

Funny story... It is quieter here in LA than it was in the desert. There was this constant loud wind that made your ears ring. The city has a gentle hum combined with the low bravado of the jets taking off from LAX.

Perfect.

Strange

2008-05-10T17:35:00.003-05:00

I slept in my parents new house for the first time ever last night.

It's the best night's sleep I have had since I left Waco.

In 20 minutes I leave for Fredericksburg.

Then California.

Weightless.

Free.

TANYA-N-BRAD-4/EVER

2008-05-04T10:52:00.003-05:00

I got the change to drive down to the abandoned company town of Aldridge near Zavalla with some friends to explore and take photos. Being the "post-industrial" subject matter I prefer... it was awesome. More photos to come. Also, photos of Dwayne, our new friend, and fruitbat.

One Day at a Time

2008-04-28T11:51:00.003-05:00

Oh man. Two weeks. Less really. I need to get on the ball with final projects!! To be fair though, I say that every semester and every semester (so far), I have been able to pull it out and get the A. The thing is that I am completely spent as far as creativity. I am really excited about all the technical stuff I can accomplish, and how the work comes out, but I have absolutely no ideas for content.

I did a couple engagement sessions the past couple weeks. Being by myself, I let the pressure get to me and made some mistakes. Where was Kyle when I needed him?? Hopefully I will put some shots on here in a short while. Maybe I can use some of those for critique...

Also I am completely preoccupied by the trip. I am planning on launching a website soon, I just ordered Dreamweaver. I might try and set up a photoblog on one of those pages to keep everyone updated.

Is it bad that as I am writing this I am considering how I don't care if I get C's, I just want to be finished??

And my Lightroom has been broken for a long time now, and no one can help me fix it. I will call Apple again this afternoon.

Ortgeist

2008-04-23T19:51:00.005-05:00

I finished a book today. You Shall Know Our Velocity! by Dave Eggars. It took me the entire semester to get through it. I love his books. I am not sure I quite grasp postmodern literature but I strongly, strongly identify with the themes. Sometimes too much, I think. The sentences are elegant in their simplicity and the way they evoke emotion, but are course at the same time. Since I can't accurately describe the themes, here is an excerpt:

"I decided at age twelve, after first getting the whole thing explained to me, that I would no longer express or be party to any human emotion. I watched the TV news and wanted to disassociate myself. I renounced my membership. I would be a better human by stripping myself of human weaknesses. I would be a better human by not raising my voice, by not crying, by not being angry, or sad, or annoyed, or excited. I was tired of staying up at nights waiting for dawn, wondering what would happen if I slept, who would come to kill me."

That's got me written all over it.

This weekend Crosspoint, er, Issac really, organized a men's retreat in the Ouachita National Forest. This was the first legitimate hiking I have ever done. We hiked in under a full moon and made our way up the mountain, carrying everything we needed with us. Water, food, sleeping bags, and a few tents that were never used. We slept on top of Buckeye Mnt, which was quite cold, and very windy. I woke up every 10 minutes to check for bears. I am now convinced there are no bears there. Nor deer. Nor anything really, besides ticks and ants. And a bunch birds that like to scream all night to each other without breathing. I have never slept on top of a mountain until now. It feels good. The lyrics of "hummingbird" by Wilco kept running through my head. "his goal in life was to be an echo, the type of sound that floats around and then back down, like a feather. But in the deep chrome canyons of the loudest manhattan no one could hear him, or anything. So he slept, on a mountain. On a sleeping bag stretched beneath the stars he'd lie awake and count them. And the great fountain spray of the great milky way would never let him die alone."

I recited these words to my friends in the midst of a pain induced hallucination from an intense headache the second night we were there. In a cloud of mysterious flies that appeared for no reason, after drinking creek water with Iodine tablets and feasting on carpenter ants. I swear I heard bad country music too, coming down from the mountains around us. I slept for maybe an hour that night before waking up to check for non existent bears again.

I think it was an excellent precursor for my trip. I learned that a mattress pad can make a big difference, as can a tent. But I think I understood why I was there a bit more, and what the transcendentalists keep blabbering on about. With one exception. I didn't want to stop for long periods of time. I wanted to cover ground, to be somewhere new. To be nomadic. I have never liked being tied to one place, which is why I travel so much. I think that the concept of place is kind of a lie that we buy into, we get it confused with home, or friends and family, or happiness. But there is a spirit of place. And I think I carry mine around with me. I always have. I collect experiences and friendships and whisk them away to my next stop. So while Half dome, or Seattle, or Cathedral Valley might not have any significance to me on their own, I still feel the need to go collect them. To experience them, and take them away with me. Not for bragging rights, even though I will brag about it, but so my perception of the world, or reality, or existence, whatever you want to call it, might be expanded, that I might grow as a person, as a human being because of it. And because of the journey, where I find friends, where I find beauty, and hopefully quiet. And space. Space and quiet to listen for that still small voice. I think, anyway. I am not quite sure yet if all of this is something I am chasing after, or running away from. If I had to choose, I would say both.

Early Morning, April 4

2008-04-04T09:13:00.003-06:00

Listening to pride by U2, and realizing the date, I can't help but think about Dr. King for a while. He was such as amazing person, speaker, teacher, and leader. He moved a nation. People like Dr. King make me proud that I am an American. Unlike Michelle Obama, I mean that the way I said it. I spend a majority of my time thinking of how I would be much happier as a Canadian. America has somehow come to stand for politics and divisions, the whole world thinks of us as blue states and red states. Why is it that we don't have anything to stand up for anymore? Where is the Dr. King of our generation? Who will lead the way to advance a politics of love, of acceptance, and generosity?? Is it that we have no great cause, or are we just a generation of apathy. Keyboard jockeys, bloggers, and other leaders seem to cry out for a new movement all the time, but to no avail. Where is our great Christian leader who cares about justice and human rights more than the feel good gospel?? Where is the unity of the body of Christ that comes together to bring the Kingdom to the world?? Sometimes I wish I was alive at the same time that Dr. King was leading millions away form hatred and fear, and into something better. It may not have been a better time then, but people had a cause, a faith, and a great leader to stand behind. God, thank You for Dr. King and others like him, and for those like him yet to come.

BTW, this map continually updates itself. Check back to see our progress in planning, and where we are on the trip.

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Hypochondria Attack

2008-03-19T09:10:00.003-06:00

It seems lately that I can't rest enough to bet back into normal running mode. I am so exhausted and I'm not sure why. The hypochondriac in me wants to think I have contracted some exotic disease like malaria. Or one of the freeloaders who demanded to use my Chapstick gave some other freaky illness. By the way, if you didn't know this about me, sharing Chapstick is one of my greatest fears. I hate it. I hate it with every fiber of my being. With the fire of a thousand suns. People know this, yet people still ask. I have no issue eating or drinking after others, but I draw the line at Chapstick. Anyway, I am not motivated to so much as get up out of bed in the morning, much less go to class or work on projects. I might be dying.

One thing I am excited about is Paul and Justin's Great Western Road Trip Adventure, or the GWRTA, which I wrote about last time. We have added a few sites, and the more I plan the more I realize that we will either not see everything we want to, or we will have to just go, making as few arrangements as we can, not being bound to a schedule or destination. Just a car and a map. The crappy thing is that places like Arches and North Rim are already almost booked for camping. This will not do. We may have to break a couple laws here and there.
I'm ok with it.

I have been back in Nac for a solid three days now. I went with Crosspoint to Kids Across America camp in nowhere, Missouri, for three days of hard labor. I drove one of the 15 passenger vans, a good 20 hours round trip. But it was good. I am glad I got to spend the time with the people on the trip. And I developed some new marketable skills. Like being able to eat a piece of chocolate set on my forehead without using my hands. Scraping paint off pool equipment. And rolling rocks down hills into a lake. Then right after I sped incredibly to get to Chad and Sarah's wedding in College Station. It was outside, the weather was perfect (maybe a bit toasty in a tux), and they both looked great and got hitched. We made a short trip to North Gate after the ceremony which was a lot of fun as well. I had a green beer.

I am going to go to class today, even if I have to keep my head on the desk the entire time. And lastly, everyone who reads this needs to watch Into the Wild, based on the book. Or read the book. That's all I'm going to say.

The Drive or The Lost Sea or If An Entirely Uneventful Day Were To Be Written As If An Exerpt From A Novel

2008-02-17T22:51:00.009-06:00

I had already stashed my luggage in the trunk of the Intrepid, but I ran back outside to rescue my treasured Starbuck's travel mug, of the red metallic variety, with a rubber stopper at the base and a plastic carabiner on the handle, in case you find yourself needing a little pick-me-up while ascending a sheer mountain face, from underneath the front seat. I went upstairs to the empty and quiet kitchen and rinsed out the week old coffee from the container, along with what I think was a majority of the congealed residue left behind from who knows when, before filling it with a fresh, steaming hot cup of Guatemalan Antigua that Carol had purchased the day before, on my recommendation. She said she liked it, but I think she would have said that no matter what. She was leaving early. We hugged and said the usual good-byes. The kind where you know you are leaving the people and the place that seem more like home than any other place you have actually lived. Michael left a few minutes later, following the same customary procedures, with me following him down the slanted and curving driveway and out the quiet residential roads. They were headed downtown, to church, and I was headed to Texas. Bono was singing about a place where they could not afford street signs.

That early on a Sunday morning, the city was still sleeping, no one ventured out aside from the occasional driver looking at me as inquisitively as I was looking at them, wondering what business this single interloping vehicle had along the usually congested highway at this time of the day and week. Times like this were rare. The ten vacant lanes of I-40 were exhilarating to see in the early morning fog, like my own private superhighway. From the back seat and from inside the doors I could hear Ryan Adams singing about the city that he was from, and despite my best efforts, I couldn't figure out if he wanted to go back there, or if he wanted to get as far away as he could. It bothered me that I didn't know. I listened to the song again and again, but never came to a conclusion as to what he was indeed thinking, all the while the road narrowed. I didn't even notice the city growing smaller, being hemmed in by the mountains.

The deck of the highway rose and fell where its path had been blasted out of the hillside. It's gentle curves and grades betraying the true geography of the foothills. Jeff Tweedy confessed to me that he would gladly die if he could be reborn. My fuel gauge was resting a little bit too comfortably close to the "E", so I set my sights on the next small town that might support a somewhat reputable Shell station. I saw a sign for Lenoir City, promoting itself as the gateway to the Smokies, so I exited the freeway. I was entertaining thoughts of a full tank, a Dr. Pepper, and Chex Mix, hoping upon hope that this particular store stocked the Bold Party Blend, which everyone knows is the top shelf variety of the Mix. Score, I got the last one. The attendant at the counter was overly friendly, and she struck up a conversation about the broken door and offered me some complementary towels, which I gladly accepted. The ground cover clouds outside seemed to become more dense, making their presence all the more known. Before climbing back into the car, I snapped a picture of an abandoned mini golf course directly adjacent to the Lenoir City ISD bus barn. I thought that maybe that was a weird sight to see. I directed the Dodge up the aging on-ramp and rejoined the highway. I saw a sign advertising "The Lost Sea" just a few miles down the road. I was tempted to make a detour, but I reasoned that there was most likely nothing of real interest there for me, and I drove on. I again focused all of my energy into passing the time, and resumed the wavelike motion of the mountains, barely visible in the thickening fog and the darkening sky.

Somewhere around the further most outskirts of the city of Birmingham, the rain began. Through the poorly maintained Infinity sound system came the voice of a man reading the story of another man, who had donated all of his money to charity and hitchhiked across the continent for two years until braving the wilds of Alaska, which ultimately cost him his life, starving to death in the harsh Alaskan interior. As the rain picked up, I reduced my speed and listened to the details of Chris' adventures and untimely demise. The author portrayed him as a tragic hero. He likened him to the transcendentalists, a modern day idealist. The rain was really coming down now, and the amount of traffic had increased dramatically, so I slowed again, to what felt like a crawl, but I was fully encompassed in this man's story. The more I heard, the more I began to envy his life. I knew it was a ridiculous sentiment, I could never do the things he had done. Leaving home, traveling anywhere he felt, with no attachments to any place or person, wandering into deserts and forests, living off of the land. But then again, maybe I could. What was great about this guy anyway? Again I was left trying to figure out whether this Chris, or Alex, was a fool, or, what seemed to me to be more likely, a person trying to figure out the answers as best he could. The center of the storm was now directly overhead, temporarily blinding travelers with each consecutive flash, followed by an ear shattering crack, and slow rumble. Most people slowed, but some did not. Far up the road, an Expedition that had not seemed concerned with the hazardous conditions as he buzzed past me earlier, was over zealous. The SUV lost traction, and began to spin, what looked to me like two complete revolutions, and then another 180 degrees, coming to rest against the concrete divider that separated the east and west bound lanes, facing oncoming traffic. Not a single driver, a witness or any other, stopped to help, myself included. I glanced in my rear view mirror as I continued driving. Not one.

Once the storm system had passed, the clouds rolled back to reveal the most beautiful day I had seen in a long time. Breathtakingly beautiful. Driving with the windows down, I had to fight the urge to climb out on top of my moving vehicle, to stand on the hood while speeding past farms and other drivers still trapped behind their oppressive steering wheel. I briefly enjoyed the metaphorical implications of this event, wondering if I could explain its significance to anyone without being considered a complete nut case. Just a while earlier, Miss Emmylou had sung a tragic tune about a girl who lived "just a little southeast of Meridian." Meanwhile, I was hungry, so when I saw the sign, I took the first exit into Meridian, Mississippi, and pulled into the Drive-Thru at a Mickey D's. Sitting in an empty parking lot, enjoying the last few french fries at the bottom of the bag, I couldn't help but think that something wasn't quite right. Something was off, awry. These roads had become familiar to me now. There was no longer any sense of challenge or adventure, just a commute, granted an exceptionally long one, but nothing more than driving from Point A to Point B. I thought back to the Lost Sea, and wondered if I had missed out. The mountains were behind me, already fading from my memory. I have never been good at remembering things like this. I retain almost all of the knowledge I collect from factual sources, like classes, media, game shows, and others. But when it comes to experiences, events, and feelings, it seems as though they begin to steal away before the thing itself is even completed. This lack of retention sometimes makes me feel incomplete. Unreal. As if reality was measured by my recollection of it, my interpretation of life transpired. I realized this might be why I am drawn to art, photography in particular, because it might serve not just as communication of concepts and feeling, but with history, and reality. Reluctantly, I got ready to get on the road again, grimacing as I turned onto the road already well traveled. "Halfway there," I told myself.

The Mississippi flowed fast and wide. Looking down from the towering bridge, I could see river barges and tugboats fighting the current and making slow progress upriver. Beyond the river's west bank, the highway settles upon the vast floodplain that seems to stretch forever in every direction. The Flatlands. At some point, my mind took a break from its endless wanderings and worryings, and I emerged from autopilot. I looked left and right, struggling and failing to find a point of interest. "Highway Blindness," they told us in Driver's Ed, "is caused by focusing on the same point on the road ahead of you for an extended period of time, and could cause you to make mistakes you normally wouldn't." I did not want to die. And I definitely did not want to go out this way, here of all places, because of some stupid mistake, but there was nothing to look at! The blindness seemed inevitable. I happened to look up, and gasped. Some thousands of feet above me was a vast glacier of clouds. Some atmospheric phenomenon that I had never witnessed was now unfolding before me. The glacier was suspended by an incomprehensible ocean of air, and I was traveling along the sea floor, by some miracle still able to breathe. I saw vibrant blues that receded into deep purples. The underbelly was riddled with fissures and fjords, as if some Scandinavian landscape was removed from its original position and turned upside down, hovering above the earth. Through the cracks I could see that the ice was burning uncontrollably, the low evening sun having set it ablaze. Golden yellow and red-orange light filtered down into valleys and burned at the edges of the massive ice pack. A man with a funny name and a soft voice sang a song about wanting to sacrifice everything, but not being able to. As I drove on, the ice filled with smoke from the fire burning above it, the sky turned gray, and I saw it collapse to the ground behind me as I drove on, chasing the spot on the horizon where the sun had last shown itself moments before.

On a bridge spanning yet another river, I looked out at the colorful glass buildings and the large and gaudy riverboats that only weeks ago had unexpectedly provided themselves to be the epicenter of an earthquake that rattled me to the core, and then some. I hated those boats, but I was thankful for them as well. The specter of their silhouettes and reflections in the muddy water instantly brought thoughts of loss and embarrassment, yet of hope, rebirth. Strange things for casinos to inspire in a person. I decided then that I would never go back there, it was a lonely city before, and now it seemed ominous in the night sky, looming over the highway, inviting in travelers like a sideshow barker. This place was evil, and I knew it. It was during this that Patty Griffin sang a song about rain.

The lanes on the road decreased by even numbers, 6, then 4, then finally down to 2. The forest tightened its grip around the asphalt thoroughfare choking out everything except the road itself. Across the state line, the speed limit increased, as did the height of the trees. As I approached the end of my drive, I recapped all that I had accomplished. There is nothing else to do on such a long trip, all by your lonesome, than to do a good deal of thinking. I had originally hoped to use the opportunity to reach definite conclusions about life in general, but of course, after that amount of time by yourself, you will undoubtedly emerge with more questions than answers, as answers are more and more difficult to come by these days. Inexplicably, I have a smile on my face. Arriving in town that night, I was surprised to find almost the exact same conditions that I had left it in, before sunrise almost 5 days earlier. The air was crisp and cool as I drove in silence with the windows down. Few cars were on the road, everything was quiet. The city was exactly as it was when I had left it not so long ago, which is exactly what I was afraid of. Now I knew, I was positive, of the incredible things that were awaiting me at the Lost Sea, and how casually I passed it by, forever driving to a destination, indifferent to the journey itself, and the endless lost seas behind and ahead of me.

Now I am home, in less than an hour I will head to class and work, to explain my now prolonged absence. All the while, memories will be evaporating, burning off in the light of menial tasks and jobs, overbearing obligations, and the small minded concerns of a daily routine.

I really should have taken more pictures.

Gramorous... Frosse, Frosse

2008-02-10T22:01:00.001-06:00

So... LOST, huh? I know right. I mean what the eff? Everybody who watches the show knows that no questions are going to be answered. But what if it is the one time that you don't watch when they finally decide to spill the beans on everything. Let's face it. You. Can't. Risk it. You can't. It's as simple as that. But if you look at the bright side, there are so many NEW things that you don't understand that all the OLD things that you didn't understand don't seem as important anymore. And is it just me, or does it seem like the production values are getting cheesier as the shows keeps going? I don't want to give anything away, but they don't even seem to add camera shake like they mean it anymore. I need to feel like they want me to want them, and I'm just not feeling it.

Friday night Chris and I high tailed it to Austin to catch an Over the Rhine concert at the Cactus Cafe on the University of Texas campus. If you don't know of it, here is a list of some people who have played there that are of minor significance: Townes van Zandt, Lucinda Williams, Ani DiFranco, Bill Monroe, Guy Clark, Patty Griffin, Lyle Lovett, and Alison Krauss. On the drive down we listened to songs about trains as we watched several million tons of them go by. We got to see some old friends, Nate and Katie, who are sealing the deal April 4th of this year. The show was incredible. We got there a teeny bit'o late. So we found pretty much the last seats in the house. It is already an intimate venue, and we ended up off to the side, but on the second row. So we were plenty close and to top it off we were right next to where the tour manager had everything set up. It was a lot of fun, even despite the locals.

You might not know this but people in Austin are freaking weird. And they aren't nice weird, oh no, they are exclusive weird. They can smell an outsider from your not trendy enough clothes or your too trendy clothes or your clothes that are exactly the right amount of trendy but you can't pull them off and they will make you wish you hadn't set foot in their beautiful oasis of unspoken rules and insider knowledge. I would love to live in Austin if it weren't for the people who live there. (No offense to anyone reading this who is from or currently resides in the city of Austin. I'm sure you are the exception to the rule, yada yada yada, you know it's true and you like it!) I might live there anyway and try to become one of them. Study their ways. Eat where they eat, shop where they shop, find out where the secret parking lot where all the locals park is...

I just spent several hours in the pitch black of the color darkroom trying not to get groped or fall on any sharp objects, and all of my energy and creativity has left me to go drink at the bar where all intangible concepts go when they've had a long day. Now I'm just talking pure nonsense, and that is a sure sign to call it a night.

Ruminations While Freezing My Fundament Off in the Digital Lab

2008-01-23T19:34:00.001-06:00

Welp. I'm back in the digital lab. Home, sweet home. But seriously, this place is beginning to feel like a black hole. I keep having to spend more and more time in here. I guess a paycheck is a paycheck though. The good news is that we got the world wide webs on all the computers, so now I can surf and blog to my heart's content.

I have been moderately to pretty depressed recently. I'm not really sure why. Actually I do know why, but I have the same things going on in my life that have been around since last summer, but they seem to be getting to me more than they used to for some reason. I having more trouble finding time to be happy than before. I'm a teeny bit more anti-social than normal, so, sorry about that guys. I'm doing my best, I promise. I feel kind of isolated I guess.

I did manage to get to see Cloverfield last weekend. Don't worry, no spoilers. A big group of us, like 18 people, went down to Lufkin to catch a midnight showing on Thursday. Well, that was the plan anyway. We got there and thought it was quite strange that there was no one else there lined up or anything. Also, there was no one in the booth selling tickets. The most disturbing thing was that there was not even the slightest mention of a showing on the marquee. So. We waited around for a bit. A little dillying, a tad more dallying, until we finally found an employee, who luckily was some sort of manager. He told us that they weren't showing it that night. Bummer. So we just kind of stood around for a bit. I mean, we drove all the way to Lufkin at like 11:30 in the PM so there wasn't anywhere we could go or something else we could do. But God, in His infinite wisdom and provision, softened the manager man's heart, and led him to charge us $5.50 a piece (which probably didn't quite make its way to the cash register) for a private screening!! Oh Heck Yes! Sadly our projector failed, so we had to sit in with the employees who were screening it, but we were privileged none the less.

The movie was way good. I loved it. There has been much talk about the ending, but it is very obvious from the beginning how it will turn out if you pay the slightest bit of attention to the opening credits. The shakiness is a little extreme, but you can focus just right where it doesn't really bother your stomach. Don't ask me how, I just did it. It has to be my favorite monster/disaster/survival movie ever. It's like how I wished all the other potentially good movies I've seen could have turned out. Good flick from start to finish. People who incessantly compare it to the Blair Witch Project... no duh!!! For real people, every movie that is shot with a handheld and involves running is going to reference BWP, why, oh why, do you focus on this rather than the many other fantastic parts of the movie. All this to say, If you see and and think it is stupid, then my friend, I think you are stupid. Seriously. That's how I feel. But we can still be friends.

On a serious note, I was very sad to hear about Heath Ledger. Surprisingly so. I think it is sad how we deify celebrities, and become obsessed with their every move. But actors (as much as I hate to admit it) contribute art to our culture, and in that way were are connected to them. Sure, we trivialize so much about them, but I think we actually do loose something when they die. I mean, of course we loose something every single time someone passes away, but when a part of our culture goes missing I think it somehow affects us all. Call me crazy. ("You're crazy!") It will definitely be a weird experience to see the new Batman movie... especially if the Joker dies in the end.

The Grind

2008-01-14T10:37:00.001-06:00

Sorry about that last post. Sometimes I can't help myself. People keep telling me how destructive sarcasm is... but I just love it so very much. I don't think I could quit if I wanted to.

Classes are set to start today. Mine don't start until 1:00 on MW and 11:00 on TR, and as always I am off on Friday. I am going to try and keep from getting hours scheduled on Friday this semester so I can actually enjoy it.

My Join the Journey devotional went out today. I can't say that the picture is flattering, but I think the devo is okay, now that it's been a few months since I wrote it. I was really nervous I would sound stupid and immature. The point is, of course, that I gave it my best, and that people get to walk through Scripture in community, but I still don't want to suck!! The project is really amazing though. And I'll be the first to admit I don't read every chapter, but this gives me a lot more incentive, which is much needed for some reason.

Also, if you want a laugh, check out this video on YouTube. I went duck hunting with Josh and his dad and a bunch of their friends on a little pond outside Ft. Worth. Courtney videoed the experience. If you watch closely, you can hear Josh condescendingly tell me to "Take 'em", and then see me shoot thrice and miss thrice. I didn't hit anything all morning. I need some practice I guess. It's like the ducks had force fields around them or something.

Lastly, for anyone with some love for sci-fi in their hearts should check out Sunshine. It was really good. The visuals were stunning, and almost enough reason to watch the movie if nothing else. It subscribes to the basic sci-fi formula (The first scene where the are all sitting around the table in the spaceship... best homage to Alien I've seen), but it also goes beyond it at the same time. RENT IT!

Well, I'm off to attempt to be organized this semester. Fat chance. Peace out homies, be well.

P.S. I almost forgot! I just got to over 10,000 tracks on last.fm! You can check out my music profile here. All of you (who actually read this garbage) should join. It's free!! Then add me as a friends so I call feel popular. Unless, you know, you're embarrassed by the music you listen to.

Getting A Hold On The Caucuses

2008-01-04T01:09:00.001-06:00

First off I'd like to start by congratulating myself on what is quite possibly the most hilarious post title I have come up with thus far. Crude? Yes. Inappropriate? Maybe. Uncalled for? Most certainly. It might just be the late hour but I am still laughing at it myself. Anyway, I thought I would use this post for some light-hearted political commentary that if nothing else, at least I will find amusing. Instead of breaking it down by issue and such, I decided it would be much more fun to go candidate by candidate and list whatever grievances I have with them in order to help me decide which will ultimately be the lesser of innumerable evils.

Obama: Limited political experience. He is a different color than me, which is scary. He was born in Hawaii, so he is most likely some sort of criminal. He shares one name with an evil dictator and another name is one political-career-saving-letter away from the most wanted terrorist in the world. He is a known Democrat. Also, he has limited political experience.

Edwards: Complete Jackass. Also known Democrat.

Clinton: Known female. Could be briefly described as a power-hungry extreme liberal ego-centric emotionless psychopath that will only divide the country further and eventually ignore the will of the nation altogether if she were to be elected, heaven forbid, and most likely try to conquer the continent of Europe, and if that proves too difficult, at least Canada and Australia. If that were not enough, her cactus like personality and unpredictable politics would make her a prime target for some well-meaning yet misguided Texan with a .308 and the most expensive sight Academy had to offer and leave us at the mercy of whatever inbred relative of her husband (who was not so bad) she appointed to the Vice Presidency. She is the reason many Democrats are ashamed of being Democrats, which really says something.

Huckabee: He admits to being a Southern Baptist Preacher, so he is most likely completely untrustworthy and unreliable. His name brings to mind thoughts of blue cartoon dogs and southern... slow to accept anything new no matter how true or beneficial-ness. He is not only from Arkansas, but was elected by the people of the state of Arkansas to be their leader. Seriously goofy looking dude.

Romney: Major people pleaser, or more accurately, political whore. Spends millions from campaign discretionary funds on hair product. Charisma that borders... or more accurately tends to fall on the side of an undefinable creeper factor that makes you call your friends for comfort if watching TV alone. Known mormon, whom we all actually know not to be misguided Christians or cultists, but zombies, also called the living dead. If elected the nation would undoubted face untold numbers of horrible, horrible commercials, ultimately leading to a sharp rise in the number of suicides and race riots. Controls nearly 98% of the world's supply of red neckties.

McCain: The biggest problem with McCain is he would spend all his time collecting and burying acorns on the White House lawn and no time running the country.

Guilliani, Thomson, and Paul: Despite one having and excellent name, I mean... seriously? You guys are joking, right?

Is that everyone, pretty much? All joking aside, I had hoped to remain impartial and undecided until election day, but my fragile self was swayed by Obama's politics of hope speech, so I am now safely and happily on his bandwagon.

I am so freaking bored.

Portfizzolio

2007-12-22T12:12:00.002-06:00

I was busy this semester. Here's my work for those that wanted to see.

Inked

2007-12-14T10:48:00.002-06:00

So it's official, I have permanently altered my body forever. I went with Rustin to a place called Bombshell's of Westheimer. My artist's name was Ronnie and it took him about an hour and a half. It turned out way better than I had hoped. Its a little fuzzy since it hasn't healed all the way but you can tell (I hope) how well it was done. Now my coolness is 100% official.

A Wish.

2007-11-30T16:03:00.001-06:00

What a poor neglected blog! I enjoy writing, but it is often difficult to get motivated in the midst of life and classes. I'm sitting out on the porch in the near perfect weather. Unfortunately the mosquitos have also decided it is a nice day to get out and about. And it's only the hardcore little bloodsuckers that make it this late into winter. They can't deter me though. I've got a cup of hot tea and Patty Griffin playing on the laptop.

My good friends Kyle and Nicole Smith recently had a beautiful baby boy, Jackson, but he is still at Texas Children's, and Nicole is having a rough time recovering. It's all detailed on his blog, thephotosmith, which is linked over on the right there. Please, if you can, remember them in your prayers, they are much needed and appreciated.

The semester is almost done! Peace at last!!! The paper is done, and the portfolios are coming along swimmingly. Photography is already matted for the most part! That is unprecedented, folks. I still haven't come up with a good way of presenting my panoramas. Most of them are about 17x78 inches. Any physical presentation is going to be expensive and difficult to transport, to say the least. Any suggestions are welcome. I am going to figure out if a digital projection would be a possibility.

Last night I went with Josh to Flashback's to catch the Cowboy's game. The place was packed to the brim because just a handful of places have the NFL Network, the only station that broadcast the came. It was awesome. The owner ended up having to stand by the door to keep people out. Everyone was decked out in Cowboys gear and Romo-wear. Even though we got there late we ended up right in front of the biggest screens. The pizza was cheap and the beer was cold. The only way it could have been better is if there were more people I knew there to enjoy the game with. Who else is ready for a NFC Championship in Dallas this year??

The sun is setting now and the light is amazing. The way it wraps around the tops of the trees and the ivy that covers the trunks is awesome. It's warm but it's almost greenish, its like a painting really. I wish you could see it. I got nothing else to tell you. I got nothing else to say. All my troubles are gone away. It's great feeling. God's peace is my peace. His joy, mine. His love, my love. I couldn't ask for anything more. Not ever. I hope that you can experience the same thing.

Bidness

2007-11-09T16:58:00.001-06:00

Look. I made a business card at work today. I did this because I am poor. I need money. I need money because I am poor. I have parking tickets. Many, many parking tickets. And Credit card debt. I would like a tattoo. Tattoos cost money. I don't have any money. So, I made a business card. Now, hopefully, I will be able to get some money. So I won't be poor. With no money. This is powerful logic, friends.

Daylight savings time is a load of crap. It gets dark now at the same time I get out of class! I just don't understand it. You all know that it actually doesn't save any daylight right? Y'all get that. The days are still the same amount of time. They aren''t any longer than before. Am I taking crazy pills here? What does DST really do? Why is it needed? It doesn't make ANY sense!! I now have sunlight in my window before I need to wake up. I have to reset all of my clocks, several of which I can't seem to remember how. An hour of my life has disappeared. It evaporated into thin air. Think about that. There is no record of anything that happened between the hours of 2am and 2am that Sunday morning because they stopped time!! Somebody has GOT to be making money off of this somehow. Next year I say we all refuse to change over. From what I hear it worked in Guatamala...

Stick Monster

2007-11-03T12:20:00.002-06:00

On Saturday mornings, I will occasionally sit outside in the cool morning air and enjoy my steaming hot mug of Mexican Pluma and contemplate all the things that I will not accomplish throughout the day. Procrastination is an art form, and my skill surpasses even the most accomplished. But this particular morning as I was outside (drinking coffee, that's the only reason I go out on the back porch) I kept noticing some odd movement around the leaves that protect the delicate concrete slab outside. The situation obviously deserved my full attention so I focused all my mental faculties on discovering the source of the disturbance. A stick was moving.

I think my exact words were "Whoaaaaaaa....". I was giddy. I had made a groundbreaking discovery. We had a Stick bug, or Walking Stick, whatever you want to call it, literally right on our doorstep. I feel like I don't need to further explain the significance of this event, other than it was life changing. Naturally, I subdued the beast and procured a temporary stick habitat with a Gladware bin and a leaf. I proudly displayed him to my roommates who clearly lacked the intellectual capacity to appreciate such a rare find. Also they are ugly. It was about this time when I realized my bug was not special, but evil.

I noticed my camouflaged friend lying upside down with his stick legs in the air in his new (apparently oxygen deprived) environment. When I opened the container, it crouching tiger, hidden dragon-ed its way ON TO MY NECK! I grabbed it (which, being a stick, was not difficult) before any damage was done, even though I'm pretty sure it whispered something demonic in my ear. In a moment of poor judgment, I let it go outside. I'm afraid I might have unleashed something horrible upon the world. I envision a scenario much like this in the near future...

This is even more terrifying as the monster is apparently aware of cliches...

Am I taking crazy pills or did a Zombie Santa just walk by?

2007-10-31T19:06:00.002-06:00

I'm sitting here in my least favorite place in the entirety of the world (Wednesday night lab hours (Which, coincidentally, stand in stark contrast to Tuesday night lab hours, when I usually go home with a headache and sore abs from laughing so much) which are from 6-10, and i end up working with the likes of Whisperstoherself McStrange girl and good ol' Mumbles Von Domyprojectforme Imanidiot), and I can't focus on anything because all I can think about is how much I don't want to be here. It's Halloween for crying out loud! So, because I am reading Microserfs, which mentions shiatsu massage repeatedly, I decided to do some research on it and find out what it is. I've been reading up on the art of shiatsu for the last half hour or so and all I have gleaned is that, if you poke and rub people in certain places it relieves pain and stress. Well... how friggin amazing. How are you supposed to feel stressed out when some dude is standing over you and keeps poking you on the side of your head and crushing your calves with his elbow. It seems like a no-brainer to me. Interestingly enough though, I did learn how to rub someone's hand muscles in such a way that will make them either completely and totally relaxed, or have an urgent and immediate need to make a bowel movement. I think I'll test it out in the next couple days... I'll let you know.

My interest was piqued because if there was a decent method of relieving stress (other than the standard and increasingly unattractive nicotine and alcohol) I think I am in need of it ASAP. I have, as the prophets once warned against, bitten off more than I can proverbially chew. I have two tests and a research paper to worry about in History of Baroque, I'm behind in Drawing, I have to figure out a way to present my gigantic prints for Digital Media, and I should be making a lot more headway in Photography. Other than that there is the Timothy Project, Community Group, the Winter Mission Trip, and the photography project* I took on with Josh. On top of all this, my body simply does not handle stress in a productive manner (I tend to sleep more... a lot more... like disgusting more), and psychologically my mind just pretends that everything is OK and says "Hey, self. There's no need to panic... let's just forget all about that bothersome little project, why don't we. Go have a taquito or something." And I do. Keeping up with friends falls further down the list every day. But I'm still smiling though, for the time being anyway. I'm not to good at expressing it in an eloquent way, but there's this understanding rooted somewhere deep within myself that has no trouble comprehending that God is working all things to His own end, and the longing for that newness is what really keeps me going though the worst of times. (The recent past being a prime example). I guess that's why I'm not afraid of failure, though, honestly, for my friends sake, I should be more aware of it. I never really lose track of that still-small voice, but it's times like these when I have recurring dreams of myself all alone in the middle of the desert juggling plates on those stick things that wobble around so much. You know, I also have this dream about Bigfoot living in the woods behind my house, and one where I rescue my fellow art students from a catastrophic bus crash on the way back from a museum (In that one I'm 6'3", ripped, and people have to hold onto me as I pull them from the fiery death trap, which ties back into shiatsu massage and my desire for friends and physical contact**).

So, after that little over-share (which is intended to be both funny and moving at the same time, did it work?) I still have over an hour left in my digital dominion, my temperature-controlled territory, where I rule with an iron fist and a scroll-ball mouse... As I was typing that, I got asked a question that I didn't know the answer to, so I came up with a long and overly complicated solution that probably made things worse than they already were. But that is besides the point. Most people come in here thinking the lab works like a TGIFridays, and if you order your potato skins and house salad before 10:00 then you are good to go until you finish eating or Jesus comes back, whichever comes first... This is not the case, folks. At 9:59 you better have finished whatever crappy final cut movie you've been slaving over and saved your files because I am 20 seconds away from pulling the plug and kicking your sorry butt out on the street! People just don't understand these things... I better get back to "work" anyway, I guess. Some girl is messing with the printer and I can tell this is not going to end well. Leave me warm fuzzy comments!!!!
-psnaps

*Josh and I went to Caddo Lake over the weekend... for a business trip. We got there in the afternoon, and after I drove the trailer off the boat ramp (my driving privileges have been revoked indefinitely) and Josh got wet and murdered me in his head, we went out and took pictures that we're putting into panormas, which we will later sell to the envious masses. We stayed at one of his friend's parent's guest cabin (they were great) and then left before sunrise the next day to take more pictures. I'd love to show them but they aren't quite ready and I can't have you people stealing our pictures and undercutting our prices! In the end it was a fun trip and it is definitely a a beautiful place, and if all goes to plan, we will bank! Oh shoot, today is pay day!! Sweet!!

** I recently realized that I am a touchie-feelie person, and I was ashamed. But I can't change who I am!! Maybe it has something to do with being an only child and a guy... I guess I never got enough contact growing up. I got punched once. After I punched a guy. He broke my paper mache cobra!! What else was I supposed to do?! But other than that, nada. Then off the deep end in Jr. High and early High School... bad times. Now I guess I've found a happy medium so dammit I need a friggin hug every once in a while!! I'd like to add that I'm not creepy and I'm not gay***.

***I feel like I need to add something else so "I'm not gay" isn't the last thing people read. So how about all the parenthetical asides in this blog, huh?! I mean, there are parenthesis in side of parenthesis. That is just excessive. There is no excuse. (Or is there?)

Home and Back Again

2007-10-13T22:06:00.002-05:00

I am just back from Waco... for the second time in two weeks. I am excited to be in Nac for a good while now. I get off work at 2 on Friday and go back to work at 1 on Sunday so any trip is pretty short. This has actually turned out to be an excuse in disguise. Also we are going to New Braunfels for the event formerly known as Encounter Weekend, Which is now called Crosspoint Road Trip. Because it stinking is. 4 hours driving Saturday then 4 back Sunday. Wait... I have work on Sunday... I can't go. Dang. (Yes, you just witnesses the process of me thinking out loud, realizing something and then coming to terms with it. Be amazed.

Thursday afternoon I went up to the Pineywoods Fair soley so Katie Kasselman could jab a hypodermic needle into my arm filled with a thousand tiny flu viruses that had been allegedly killed earlier. I didn't even feel it, it was impressive. On the way out I bought a bag of cinnamon roasted pecans from a crazy nut lady and became a registered Democrat. The fair here is pretty sad, there wasn't much to see or do, and the people there tended to glare at me like they knew I did something wrong. Charming. But the moral of the story is I got a shot and I am now completely impervious to illness and disease.

Here is my next masterpiece:

Careful... It's politically and environmentally charged. It is important to note that the yellow metallic doohickey-magigger in the foreground that connects the gas well to the lines is called, oh yeah, a "tree". According to the people in my classes I am turning into a little Talbot. Or Talbito if you will. Won't you.

Lastly, I just finished Dave Eggers' A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. It was definitely a good read, and here's a quote from the beginning that I thought was pretty thought-provoking and also is one of the main themes of his memoir:

"We all like full disclosure, particularly if it includes the admission of one's 1) mortality and 2) propensity to fail (Related, but not the same)."

Also, Kyle, you do not really suck. I said that out of jealousy and I am sorry. Please accept this frowny emoticon as restitution: :(

One Semester Closer...

2007-10-05T16:11:00.001-05:00

My apologies for the extended hiatus. I'm going to make a more concentrated effort to keep blogging but I have been much busier than I expected to be this semester. And when I'm not busy... I'm sleeping. But for this weekend, at least, all the tests are over and most of the projects that need constant attention can stand a break, so oodles of free time for me! Until Sunday, anyway.

The best news I've gotten in a long time... the SFA Art Dept. is offering and not the customary one but TWO photography classes this Spring, 417 and the all new 418! You might be wondering why this matters... so I'll tell you. Now. I can graduate a semester earlier that I had planned!! August of 2008! I would get to be in a smaller commencement AND it would be a lot easier for me to have my BFA show because there are a lot fewer people competing for space.

Speaking of Photography, here's a few things I've done this semester:

This puppy is 48" long. Next: This one is 32" but could be up to 66".
This one was taken on a 4x5 view camera. The type with the bellows and the cloth you have to put around your head to focus on the ground glass. Also, this picture is set up and those are props, this didn't really happen, so no dogging on Josh. One really cool thing though was that there is so much detail in the negative that you can read the text on the barrel of the shotgun, without a magnifying glass.
And this one looks a lot better printed.

Right now Tennessee is owning Georgia 21-0, so I feel that this game deserves my full attention. Until next time. And now Kyle can shut up.

Gahh....

2007-08-25T18:11:00.001-05:00

So.

Busy.

Tired.

Broke.

J.J.

Abrams.

Ruining.

Life.

Sleep.

For Lack of Something (Anything) Better to Do

2007-08-14T10:57:00.001-05:00

Since the middle of last week, I have completely lost my ties to the real world. The three hour block of time for class that I had depended on for so long was sadly taken from me and now space and time exists is some weird dimension where I have absolutely nothing to do. No job, no class, no responsibilities. It sucks. Reverting back to a High School level of responsibility isn't nearly as romantic as you'd think.

To make up for the time I've found against my will, I've been doing a lot of reading and watching a lot of movies. Right now I'm in the middle of A Generous Orthodoxy by Brian McLaren. (Subtitled: Why I am a missional + evangelical + post/protestant + liberal/conservative + mystical/poetic + biblical + charismatic/contemplative + fundamentalist/calvinist + anabaptist/anglican + methodist + catholic +green + incarnational +depressed-yet-hopeful + emergent + unfinished Christian) It's definitely a good read if nothing else, there is a lot to think about. The edition I have even has discussion questions after each chapter. At first I thought this would would be a little dangerous for me because I am usually inclined to believe anything I see on TV or read in a book, but while reading this one I was surprised to find that McLaren is describing things that I have already been feeling for quite a while now, and just formulating them into coherent well-written ideas. And also into some somewhat practical applications. Which is a LOT more that I can say about many of the "christian" books I have been going through lately. It's refreshing to have someone put forth ideas and not tell me what I need to think, while neglecting to tell me WHY or WHAT I should do about it!! If I read another that gives me the precise outline of how to be a "great leader" or to find my "purpose" I am going to flip. I'm all for getting some help, but not so much breaking down my life into a formula like some sort of equation. If anyone hasn't noticed the emergent bandwagon around town, I think maybe you should take a look. It's a different way of doing things. Not that it is right and everything else is wrong, just a new perspective of sorts.

As for movies, I watched an unhealthy amount recently. Surprisingly most of them were pretty good. Let's see if I can go though a quick list here and spare you the specific reviews. (You're Welcome).
Who the #$&% is Jackson Pollock?-good, Junebug-ok/good, Ushpizin-good, An Inconvenient Truth-surprisingly good, Bobby-really good, Rebel Without a Cause-old but still really good, Bottle Rocket-Wes Anderson goodness, Down by Law-not so good, Be Here to Love Me: A Film About Townes Van Zandt-good, 300-good, Zodiac-not great, Breach-really good, The Fountain-weirdly good, Blake Snake Moan-liked it a lot, Harry Potter 4-still not a fan of the movies, but not bad, Brokeback Mountain-again surprisingly good (not as good as Crash, but maybe deserved a strong second place academy award), Memoirs of a Geisha-good/really good, Babel-good, but I don't see the hype, Hot Fuzz-hilarious... and that is mostly within a couple weeks. Not to mention I have to make room for every Stros game, Top Chef, and now Mad Men, which is a pretty good show. (My rating scale is based on level of goodness, there are not greats or what not, because what does great mean other than really really good??)

P.S. You should know that just because I watch or like a movie does not mean it is completely devoid of gratuitous violence, nudity, language, or drugs. Actually, though not a requirement, in my experience those things seem to be in most of the really good movies I've seen. Huh. If you are concerned to the point where you are willing to ruin the movie experience and possibly spoil the ending you can check out this site, that breaks down movies scene by scene so there are no surprises. Which is both a good and a bad thing, because they usually give away major plot points. Jerks.

Miss Adventure

2007-08-06T17:23:00.002-05:00

So Saturday Vince and Autumn got hitched in McKinney. I left here fairly early in the morning and met up with Jessi in Plano, and from there we went to the wedding. Or at least so it seemed. Illustrated above in green would be the correct way to get to the church. Illustrated in red is the route we took. Once we finally took the road that didn't exist to the road that we needed to be on, we could see the church, but unfortunately the road leading to the church was destroyed and blocked off. But we got there. An hour late. It was quite the reception. But the important thing is they both looked great and got married and skipped town for the Caribbean.

Wedding Photog

2007-07-29T21:25:00.001-05:00

This weekend I drove down to Houston to help my friend Kyle photograph a wedding for his business. This was number two for me, and it was still a little weird. I'm not exactly the most outgoing person to begin with, and being thrust into a church full of people I've never met before and sticking a camera in their faces can be a little stressful and intimidating. But over all it went really well. I have to say we had a pretty smooth system worked out before everything got under way. One of my jobs was to sit up in the balcony and get shots of the bride and groom during the ceremony. Well, as luck would have it (and believe me I am a very lucky person) as the minister was praying, just before the kiss and the presentation of the couple, my Canon decided that it was tired and wanted to take a quick nappie poo... and it turned itself off. Completely. I tried a few times, but I couldn't get the power to turn back on. Now, I don't know how most of you define fear, but at that moment I couldn't decide if I should go ahead and have a massive heart attack, run away and hide, or just jump head first off of the balcony into the crowd. Fortunately, Kyle was still upstairs, even though he had to be downstairs in a few seconds to get the newlyweds exiting, and I eventually convinced him something was wrong, mostly by the look of sheer terror on my face. We switched out my camera with a Nikon, which I quickly realized I didn't know how to use appropriately, so he took over for a long enough time for me to replace the battery and get everything back to normal. We got the shot, and he got downstairs just in time to get his. Disaster narrowly avoided. I didn't hear a peep from my camera for the rest of the night. So we hit up the reception for all the guests, goodies, and dancing. Who doesn't love weddings??

Dumbledore dies...

2007-07-23T11:16:00.001-05:00

Friday night my roommate, who also happens to work at the only bookstore in town, scored me a copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I went to the lake Saturday morning with a group from our college ministry, but when I got back, it was down to business. I finished Sunday afternoon, pretty disappointed.

See, here's the thing... in the last six books, most of the story took place at a giant school with tons of characters and exciting stuff going on. This last one focuses on the main three figures, who, annoy the crap out of me. Harry Potter, however brave and courageous or whatever, is a complete and total idiot, screwing things up and pissing people off wherever he goes. Including me. Don't misunderstand me, I get it. The heroics, the sacrifice, the "love", but to me it feels like I'm watching a movie where Harry Potter is played by this guy. Painful right? Anyway, I don't know if going to so much effort to avoid any spoilers and dishing out that much cash was worth it. I'm leaning towards no, it wasn't. And if you're wondering what happens in the end, they rebuild Dumbledore with a robots body (with rocket cannons), Crabbe, Goyle, And Malfoy get an apartment together in San Francisco, Snape sells used cars, and Harry ends up an overweight motivational speaker. Sorry to ruin it for you.

Adv. Photo

2007-07-11T11:16:00.002-05:00

Here is most of what I turned in. There were a few others that fit for the class but I didn't take in the studio. (And I took them up to two years ago...)

Death by Pancakes

2007-05-08T18:27:00.001-05:00

Could there possibly be a better week to waste time and energy on a blog then during finals week? I honestly don't think there can. I should be writing a paper, but I am stuck, so I thought I might get my creative juices* flowing over here for a bit.

Tonight is Grace's Midnight Finals Breakfast, which isn't really breakfast and its not really at midnight. Quaint. I signed up to run pancakes to (and hopefully not from) the front of Steen library because we are having it on campus this year. I'm pretty sure I'll smell like batter by the end of the night, but if you don't mind then I don't mind, that's my philosophy. But I like the fact that we are on campus instead of cooped up in Henderson Hall. It really lets people who have never been exposed to pancakes before get a much better understanding of what pancakes are all about. Maybe they mosey on over to the table, grab one, maybe even two; with the proper instruction they can add some butter and an appropriate amount of syrup, and before you know it they are off on their own and by evening's end they have to be wheelbarrow-ed back to their dorm in a stack of other over-zealous freshmen who couldn't pace themselves properly. That's how I'm hoping tonight goes anyway.

Oh well, my critique tomorrow isn't until 1:00 so maybe I'll just wake up early and write my paper in the morning. I tend to work better under pressure anyway.

*What the heck are creative juices and where could they flow? I mean, this whole metaphor is just littered with impropriety. I think we need to switch to some more G-rated literary devices.

The Post Script... Post

2007-05-01T00:44:00.001-05:00

So I couldn't even read the old blog without getting a headache, so now its... well here it is. I'll fix it soon.

Blogger: Resurrection Version 2.0.5.1 1/3

2007-05-01T00:05:00.001-05:00

It's back! And better than ever!!

Actually is pretty much the same. And by that I mean I haven't changed anything, but it did take me about 20 minutes to figure out the whole new blogger/gmail thing. I had to "claim my blog". What does that even mean??? Did my copyright lapse and fall into the public domain? Have my musings been ruthlessly appropriated by SoCal Suburbanite Emo kids!... white text on black T-shirts!!! I think I might have just realized my greatest fear.

Moving on, the black and white hurts my eyes in my old age, so I'll find a new template soon. In the mean time here are some images I have been working on this semester, and my artist statement. And these are copyrighted so don't even think about putting these in your Facebook album kiddos. Peace.

Somewhere off a secluded dirt road, in a overgrown wooded lot, there is a house that has been vacant for what looks like years. To photograph it, you would have to cross over fallen trees and pools of standing water because there is no longer any trace of a sidewalk or pathway that once led the way to the front step. It’s obvious from the wallpaper and welcome mat that someone used to live here, but now, everything that was not bolted down has been stolen, even the doors. After I have explored the building and the property and taken some photos, I leave, but the house remains. I am consistently drawn to places like this, abruptly abandoned and left to decay with time. But through isolation and neglect, these objects and locations gain something amidst all that they have lost, and that is what I am trying to capture in my work. They have not triumphed over man or nature, which is why I chose not to represent them in a celebratory manner, but because they are still here, still existing despite the fact that they are now considered useless, they are worthy of attention and respect. By working in black and white, I can better demonstrate an atmosphere of absence and loneliness. I always interfere with the subject as little as possible, hopefully leaving nothing behind other than footprints. My ultimate goal is to approach these abandoned and forgotten things which are just assumed to be unattractive trash, and hang on a wall a photograph of something beautiful, whether it be for its formal qualities, is photographic qualities, or its social significance. Either way, the viewer should walk away having made a connection with the subject in the photograph that will stick with them after they have left the gallery.

Oh No, I'm Beginning To Sound Like an Artist.

2006-09-13T23:14:00.001-05:00

I want to know, scientifically that is, what exactly is in the air in the fall that makes it so intoxicating? I mean, it's just air right? Why does it feel so much cooler than air conditioning, even though it is still warm? And why does it smell so sweet, even though it smells kind of bad if you think about it? Actually, I think I like that it can't be explained scientifically. (If you can explain it... you should keep those thoughts to yourself and go have a drink, seriously, lighten up...). My point being, this is my absolute favorite time of year and I can't wait for it to cool off a bit more. Every once in a while Texas can get it right, for a few days at least.

Today was the 12th class day of the fall semester. The day where I should have dropped my Art History class, because I have already used up OVER 50% of my absences (I knew I could do it if I tried), and I'm not really anticipating ever going again. But instead, well, I didn't. If anyone knows a way to make sure I go to class... be a pal and let me know. I think I am going to start setting the coffee maker to go off before I wake up, so hopefully that can do the trick. What's funny is that it is a 9 o'clock class, and I skip it all the time, but I have an 8 o'clock Digital Media class that I wouldn't miss for $100. It's all about the motivation. I'm not particularly interested in French cave paintings or rocks stacked on top of each other in England. Man, I'm not gonna do well in this class. Everything else is great, I pack a lunch and eat it in the arboretum between Drawing II and Photo I, and I ride my bike to class in the morning. (I've only eaten it once. No one laughed. At all. I almost cried) This college thing continues to be cool. Plus, I only have one class on Friday, a move I haven't pulled since my first semester, I forgot how ridiculously awesome it was.

For anybody reading this with a slight artistic bend... you should check out www.foureyedmonsters.com, if you haven't already. It's a flipping amazing project. It's about the making and distribution of a feature film... Four Eyed Monsters... but it is really about a lot more. It's about the way we communicate and connect with each other. It's about the process of creating something, the way we create something, and the way art is changing, because now anyone with a digital camera can be a photographer, anyone with a blog is a writer, and anyone with a camcorder is a film maker. On the site, there is a page where you can request a screening in your area, and Austin and Houston are gathering some requests. Watch the Video Podcasts, and if your tastebuds approve, you should definitely request the film. This project has grown into a community of support, which is really awesome, and really encouraging about the direction art is headed in the future. If you have the time, start with the first video podcast from a long time ago and work your way up to the last few weeks. I really want this project to succeed. I hope this type of thing is what we have to look forward to.

I'm headed home this weekend for the first time since... the middle of July, actually. Dang. But anyway I need sleep. Bad. Goodnight.

On Second Thought

2006-08-22T00:03:00.001-05:00

For everyone who doesn't know about it yet, www.pandora.com radio is pretty much the coolest thing ever. Anyone who likes new music should go check it out right now... after you finish reading this of course. I am listening to "Red Guitar Radio" right now.

I have been surprisingly busy lately. I think it is funny that I used to go out of my way to take a vacation from doing nothing, and now I really want to take a vacation from all the stuff I'm doing but I can't. I'm working on a devotional for Mission SFA and getting ready for Community Group, and once that gets up and running I can start working on the Winter Mission Trip, which I am leading coincidentally. Actually, I'm going to stop thinking about what I need to do because I keep remembering more and more things that I haven't done, and I am about to go to sleep.

Actually I was going to write something about how I can't seem to change my habits, or how what the church really needs is free popsicles, or about the significance of art in everyday life, or about the turtles in Thailand that need our help, but instead, I think, I really am going to go to sleep... Goodnight.

No, Really, I'm Not Dead, I Promise

2006-08-08T23:46:00.001-05:00

Only three days of class left this summer. Fan. Tastic. I actually got my crap together at the last minute and will probably pull off all A's and B's. And by that I really mean one A and one B in Design and English respectively. FYI, Design is actually a really cool class... I didn't think I was going to be able to create stuff in that kind of setting, but the creative process is a lot more fun and interesting than I was expecting. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to finish most of the books I wanted to read over the summer because I have barely been keeping pace with everything else.

Some really, really good news: We found a house! At the last minute, no less. It's right next to campus, a three (used to be four) bedroom/two bath, with a garage, and a backyard. So nice. Financially this first month has been really hard, like I still don't know if things will work out, but if we can make it until September then we are totally set. I am really ready for the break coming up, I have had no free time whatsoever since Summer II began. But being moved in to the house is a huge help, I can actually sleep at night now 1) because there are no sucky neighbors 2) and I was really stressed about finding a place to live.

Lastly, the battery on my MacBook was screwed up, so I called them at like 4:00 yesterday afternoon, and they sent me a new one today, for free, and DHL came out and picked up the old one. Apple is freaking amazing. I am learning how to use Aperture and it should be illegal to do all the crap it can do. I repent of being a Mac hater and have fully jumped on the bandwagon. A very cool, stylish, freakin sweet bandwagon.

It's 11:11. Make a Wish. Make Something.

2006-07-22T22:57:00.001-05:00

There are so many things that I could talk about right now. Lucky for you, I really don't want to go into detail about any of them. That's the reason it's been a while since my last update.

I have yet to find a decent solution to my problem with the summer. Going home won't fix it; staying here in Nac didn't either. Maybe going somewhere where I don't want to go will. There seems to be no cure for this annual funk. So, here is what's going on, with as little thought put into the process as possible.

Woodforest has gone to crap, so we are moving. We are hoping for a house, but we are desperate and will move anywhere as long as it isn't here.

I don't think I will ever get tired of finding new music.

I have felt like crap all weekend and I don't know why.

I don't trust enough people. I have a list of people I don't like, and I want to get rid of it.

I quit my job, and I am broke.

I am really disappointed that I never got to go camping this summer. Unreasonably so.

Garden State really is a great movie. And The Postal Service is great music.

I think a brief change of perspective is intoxicating, and addictive.

I just can't quite seem to figure out what the next step is...

God Bless America. And Thank You For Fireworks.

2006-07-05T08:13:00.002-05:00

So it's the day after the Fourth of July (July 5th) and I still have ten fingers and two eyebrows. Right now, life is good. Last night Crosspoint held a quite lovely little function out at the Hurst's barn complete with free pizza and an amateur fireworks show. And by amateur I mean totally awesome. The efforts to coordinate such an explosively sweet display were tremendous. Catastrophe was never too far away, and the element of danger was an integral part of the experience. At one point, we had five tubes going at the same time about two feet apart from each other. That, my friends, is artistry. Sparklers were twirled, fingers were singed, and much fun was had by all in attendance.

This is my last week at work. My schedule is way full. Class from 9:40 to 11:10, the Design in the studio from 1:00 to 4:10, Monday - Friday. The fall is packed full as well with 16 hours and three studio classes. So, I had to tell Debbie that I won't be able to work. After the tears, (ok, no real tears, but there were in my imagination when I though of how it might go), it turns out that everything will be fine, and she told me that I have a job here whenever I want... How cool is that?! Working here turned out to be an unexpected blessing. My supervisor is great, I got to get to know almost all of the 50+ people who work here, and hopefully I made some connections within the university that might be helpful in the future. I will miss the friends, the gossip, the endless study time, the parties, the free food, and those thirsty, thirsty plants. Really, I don't want to leave. But, really, I won't miss those plants.

Also I wanted to clear something up because I think I might have miscommunicated. I am not bitter about my childhood. I am not holding any grudges against my parents, or the kids who didn't invite me into their group of friends, or any of the numerous people who have generally sucked at life. But at the same time, I am not comfortable pretending that everything was fine and dandy, because it wasn't. I have recently come to the conclusion that honesty really is the best policy, even though sometimes people are going to get hurt or offended. I have also recently come to the conclusion that people need to be hurt and offended. If you're not being challenged or generally experiencing some sort of crap, you might need to look at yourself a little more closely, because you might have stopped growing up inside. Am I ungrateful? Absolutely not. There is a lot more to life than even the best writer can get down on paper, much less a blog. The cool thing about being a real person (I just figured out I was a real person not long ago) is that you don't have to take everything for what it is, wholesale. There is usually much more waiting beneath the surface. Tip of the iceberg, appearances are deceiving, blah, blah, blah.

Anyway, my real point is this: I have decieved you, I am not a writer. I try as best as I can to organize my thoughts into words and then phrases that other people might enjoy reading. Occasionally I do a good job of it, but more commonly I leave a Boggle-ish swath of literary devastation in my wake. Sometimes I should clarify, and sometimes I like to leave things vague. But it is not my goal to write destructively, I've done that enough already and have gotten tired of it. When I say I want to offend people, I don't mean spewing a rash of "Your mamma's so fat" one liners. I want to offend them with some inconveinient truth, some rude realization, so that maybe something might spark inside of them. As I said, I want to add to the world, because everything is at risk of being lost.

A Thickening Cloud, A Growing Light

2006-06-28T22:33:00.002-05:00

Here is what frightens me the most, not that everything will fail, that everything dear to me will be destroyed, that what I know to be good will finally be overcome, but that all of these things will happen and I will be left alone with the knowledge that I did nothing to save that which is worth fighting for. If my house, which I helped to build, and where I find shelter, begins to fall I would much rather be crushed beneath its walls trying to save it than to stand by and do nothing.

What does it takes to save something you love? Pretty much any answer you can find will be a verb. Warm-up time is over, its time to step up to the plate.

What I'm trying to say is that disaster doesn't exist only in an instant. It sneaks up behind you and quietly picks you apart until you crumble on your own. It takes advantage of your weakness.

It's time for me to add something to the world. Something actually is at risk. Everything is at risk.

The Blueberries Approacheth

2006-06-07T10:24:00.001-05:00

Halfway done with week two of Summer I, and I am about to die. Class is great, but work is killing me. I don't have much room to complain, seeing as how I mostly get paid to read and study and answer the occasional phone call, but this is killing me. You try getting up at 7 o'clock every day and then going into a quiet, the A/C gently humming, usually chilly office, sitting in a moderately comfy chair, having absolutely nothing to do, and NOT having to fight to stay awake. I'm losing the battle. A few minutes ago, I pulled a random file and then walked around the office for a few minutes looking busy, and then just put it back in the file cabinet. I learned that trick from Kyle. No amount of caffeine can help me now. I should mention this entire post is being written on the clock. I do very important work.

The summer just feels so different from the regular school year. Tons of people are gone to their respective hometowns or mission trips or fun family vacations (are they fun families? or fun vacations with the family?). Classes are easy and relatively stress-free. There are huge gaps of time between one event and the next. I don't think I trust the summer... it has a hidden agenda to bore me out of my mind. And it is doing a good job. I played a bass fishing game on xbox for three hours... Even more menacing is the way it gives you so much extra free time, yet causes you to accomplish even less of what you want to do, thereby making you feel lazy and useless. The summer is craftier than I originally thought. There is some light at the end of the tunnel, though. This weekend is the Texas Blueberry Festival, one of the coolest things Nac has to offer. But more importantly, nay, MOST importantly... Friday afternoon Costa Rica plays Germany in the World Cup opener!! ESPN, ESPN2, and ABC are carrying every game this year. With the capabilities of TiVo... the ramifications of this should be felt almost every night for a month. I don't even care if the U.S. doesn't make it out of our group (ok, I do care, I didn't mean that), I am still watching every game. This is the one time every 4 years where soccer is a big deal in the U.S., so I have to enjoy it while I can.
-Paul

P.S. Michael and Carol recommended Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. Having read it, I think you should as well. It's not that long of a book, and it has a somewhat unique structure, but it was really good. Easy read with some really challenging concepts. Go forth a purchase or check out.

Photo-posting is fun for everyone.

2006-05-31T11:00:00.001-05:00

I'm back at home in Nac after a week in Knoxville with Michael and Carol. It was great to be abl just to spend time with them and hang out. During the week, there was an evening at the BCM, the LOST finale, a hike through a poison ivy forest, the driving range, the used bookstore, the regular bookstore, the movies, Thai food, broadening Carol's musical horizons, Michael making fun of my computer, McAlister's, Disc Golf in the woods, Karate Dog, Japanese food, and Texas Hold'Em. There was also a photo contest, here are my entries:

Then here's some giraffes and a table.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

2006-05-12T14:09:00.001-05:00

Well, I managed to hold down a solid 4.0 GPA for a few hours. Too bad that's gone now. I'm really happy with this semester. I'm still waiting on 4 grades, but I think things just went so much better than the fall. The fall was bad, real bad. It came at the end of a really bad summer. It's not a point in my life that I am particularly proud of. But 2006 has been good to me. I know that I mention Donald Miller in just about every post, but I'll do it again anyway. He starts off Through Painted Deserts talking about change. Not like two dimes and a nickel change, but a change in your life that creeps into your bones. It's a noticeable feeling. Not really a "Hey, look how differently I act now then I did back then", but more of a desire to see change, to make change, to be changed, and to be change. It's a longing that keeps me up way too late into the night thinking about life, friends, enemies, God, and what I'm not doing that I should be. It used to be that I focused on what I was doing that I shouldn't be. I guess I've changed.

One tangible thing that I have noticed is my philosophy about the way I relate to other people. I just recently figured out that I even had a philosophy about anything (other than my theory that the concept of time is really a government conspiracy designed to help clock and calendar companies make money). I've heard it said from many different sources that you should never try and change another person. That's advice that gets thrown around a lot about friends, dating, and even marriages. I used to live by this advice, to the extreme. I think most people do. It's like even when two people are in the same room together they are still completely isolated from each other. One person says something, then the other says something else that has nothing to do with what the first person said. They might as well be speaking different languages. Neither cares about the other person, they are just speaking so they can be heard. I believe that one thing every person desperately wants is to be heard, even the most quiet, introverted person you know would love nothing more than for someone just to listen to them. It's really too bad that people hate to listen. They're really just talking to themselves.

I'm not OK with that anymore. More than that, I hate that I have been that way for so long. It's stupid. Boring. How can you not feel like your life sucks if you live this way?? A friend told me recently that I am just making a big deal out of nothing, but I don't think they got it. I don't understand why this isn't a "big deal". It cuts right to the core of my faith, of my identity, and of my character. If I am called to love everyone, then I have no option left but to get involved in their lives. What does getting involved mean anyway? I don't think it means to get romantically involved with everyone, so don't think that about me. I don't say things like that about you. I think it means a lot of things... a lot of things that mean a lot more things. Like "being there", which means being available, which means you are willing to make sacrifices, which means that you take risks. It means you are honest, and vulnerable. It means that you care about a person so much that you don't care how they think of you. It means your not afraid to be a screwed up, stupid, jerk of a human being because you are trying to make a difference. You are trying to bring about some change! It's worth it.

This probably isn't an earth-shattering idea, but it has been for me this last semester. Next year I'm leading a Community Group. That's insane. I feel like I need to be evaluated or something before I lead, but I know that I can do it. I'm going to squeeze in a trip to Knoxville at the end of the month. I think I'm going to stop at a rest stop and sleep in my car. Why? Because then I could say that I have. And Donald Miller did it. He pretty much told me to.

Finals, Deadlines, and Plans

2006-05-05T10:13:00.001-05:00

Time goes by way too fast. I mean, we hear that all the time, ever since we were little kids who thought it took about twenty years for Christmas to get here, but we never believe it until it is too late. To late to do what... ? I don't know, but I feel like I could do something to make the life that I am living right now just a little bit more meaningful.

Two years of college are already done with. That's one half. Fifty percent. The mid-point. I'm not ready for it to be halfway yet... I don't even know what I want to do with the degree that I'm not sure about either. Granted, I might be here a little bit longer than 4 years, BUT that is besides the point. I need to get of my butt and start doing something while I still have the freedom that I have now. Donald Miller thinks that maybe the meaning of life is living, and I don't think I'm doing a very good job of it.

Two finals on Tuesday and two papers due next week. Then two weeks of crazy. Then summer school, more summer school, and then school again. It's so easy to get caught up in the stuff that is written on the calendar in permanent marker. Who needs a calendar?? I think I'm throwing mine away.

Lessons from John.

2006-04-25T19:37:00.002-05:00

Yesterday I had the pleasure of meeting John. I spotted him in front of the golden arches standing beside the road watching the cars pass by. After I safely secured my chicken sandwich and Dr. Pepper, I pulled up next to him with my windows down and with Wilco cranked as high as I could without the rearview falling off the windshield. He was wearing a red Kroger polo tucked in with nice pants and a tan Kroger baseball hat. I would have guessed that he was between 50 and 60, his grey hair stuck out from underneath his hat, and his cheeks had a tired sag in them when he caught my eye and smiled. He thought for a second, then took a few steps towards my car. I quieted Tweedy with the quick press of a button and reached for my glove compartment so I would have the lighter ready when he asked for it.

"Good Afternoon."
"Hi" I said. I guess you all know that I am an excellent conversationalist.
"You headed towards Independence Village?" He was looking at my lighter, he seemed confused.
"I don't know where that is, but I'll give you a lift if you need it."

I gave my spicy chicken sandwich a quick look of apology and then threw it in the back seat as he made his way to the passenger side. He got in and introduced himself as John, and I introduced myself as Paul. Two of the apostles in a car outside a McDonald's in Nacogdoches, Texas. The bus driver was an hour late, and it was too hot outside to wait any longer. We talked about all the really important things in life, like how no one in Nacogdoches uses their turn signal. John hates it when you don't use your turn signal. John hates the bus driver too, he's always mean to John. John just got a new truck a few months ago. It's nice. He said it's a half-ton Ford F-150. With a V8 engine under the hood.

"It looks just like on of those!" He said, as he pointed out a big Chevy heading toward us.
"What color is it?" I asked to keep the conversation going (even though John wasn't having any trouble doing that on his own).
"Silver. With a black lining on the bed! Man, it looks so good!!"

I could tell from the look in his eyes that he didn't have a silver F-150 with a V8 engine and a black bed liner. And after talking with him for 2 miles of University Drive, I don't think he had a driver's license either, nor will he. But John was so excited about his truck that it was all he talked about. He asked me if I had a car or truck... I don't know when the last time it was that I've smiled that much. I was grinning so wide that it was starting to hurt. I told him no, I didn't have a truck or car, but if I was ever lucky enough to get one, I'd want one just like his. He liked that. A lot. We drove up to Independence Village, which has a meaning hidden in its name that I didn't catch the first time I heard it. He showed me his garden as we passed by it, it was a box of dirt. But it was John's box of dirt, and he was proud of it. I stopped and then he got out, and then he was gone. Just like that. I went home and ate my chicken sandwich in silence.

John taught me something. Every time I'm with someone I start thinking of what NOT to do. What NOT to say. John doesn't worry about that. He just dives right into the conversation like he's known you all of your life. John wasn't afraid to ask a question. All John wanted was someone to talk to. What if I could be like John? What if when I talked to people... I just talked to them? What if I was as excited about seeing and taking to them as John was about his new truck? What if I wasn't worried about upsetting anyone, and was open and honest, and didn't care what they thought about me? I was with John for less then 5 minutes, and I can already see a difference in myself that I have taken from my meeting with him. I wish I could thank him.

Summer is only two weeks away and I'm not excited. I'm happy for the break and the sun, but everyone is going to be leaving. It sucks. Just when you start having fun with people they up and leave for three months. Losers. I am expecting visitors and invitations to weekend parties. Hahaha, everyone laugh to yourselves... but I am not freaking joking. Really. Stop smiling. I will start inviting myself to things. Don't think you're OK if you are leaving town. I can drive to Dallas or Houston. ...please...

Pizza and The Milky Way

2006-04-08T17:42:00.002-05:00

Sorry for going so long without an update, I know everyone is dying to know what is going on in my life. I have been busy almost constantly. I even had to finish a paper on my birthday, How wrong is that? Speaking of my spirit journey formation anniversary, it was a lot of fun. Sarah and Katie baked a cake and brought it to the Lost party, which I think was the most people that have ever been over here. And a bunch of people went out to chill's fine dining on Thursday. Oh, and my parents sent me balloons and a cookie cake, even though I hate cookie cake. And when I went to work I noticed everyone slowly making their way to the back... then Dr. Evans said she needed some help lifting some things... which were cake and a bunch of other goodies. It feels good to be a little bit older, officially.

The college men's retreat was this weekend. We spent the night at a really nice house just out of town. It was awesome just to hang out with a bunch of guys for a night and not have to deal with school. We played capture the flag Friday night. The flag was really a glow stick. And no one ever really captured it. We called it quits after a couple of hours. There was a storm off to the east of us, so a few people went outside to watch the lightning and talk for a while. Adam, Josh and I ended up sleeping outside because it was so nice. Adam has a CIA designed super sleeping bag with a little mattress so he slept on in the field, but I bought my sleeping bag at Wal*Mart, so me and Josh slept in the bed of his truck. I haven't been camping for 8 years or more, so it was just awesome to get to stare at the stars all night. The one thing that I want to do the most right now is go backpacking in the Pacific Northwest. I've said it before, but, I really, really want to go. Just a sleeping bag, a few essentials and the mountains for a few days. I'm going to find a way to make this happen. Oh yeah, and when I woke up, I saw that my sleeping bag was on top of a machete all night long, and I didn't even notice. It was actually kind of nice.

Shackles to Diamonds

2006-03-21T00:18:00.001-06:00

Two years ago, I said that trying to make an impact in the world today was like trying to change the color of the ocean with a single drop of food coloring. I realize tonight how badly I was missing the forest for the trees. Changing the world isn't a bad thing, but what takes more effort and much more food coloring is changing myself. I used to spend all my time thinking of ways to affect other people. I wanted to make people happy, to be friends with everyone, and to never start an argument. After I did this for about, say, six or seven years, I developed some problems. I have no confidence, no self-esteem, crippled social skills, and mumbled speech just to name a few. (Very few.) My personal life and my faith was broken and desperate, but I am an outstanding actor, if you didn't know that already. Pretending to be happy became a way to be happy, much like an actor who starts to believe that he really is Hamlet after spending so much time in the role. I lied. I lied so often I couldn't keep track anymore. Not lies to impress or draw attention, they were for my protection. I couldn't chance you finding out who I really was. I was an imposter.

Six months ago, I would have told you that there's no gray. But there is. Not in the terms that most people use it though. Truth has no shaded areas, it has no darkness, only light. The truth leaves no room for interpretation, but the gray comes in the application. It used to be that God was my corporate sponsor. It was always us, never me. I had no strength before men, how could I then before God? The truth is, humanity was not bought in stock at the spiritual Costco of the world, but that we have been individually, each of us, redeemed by a passionate savior who hand picked us, knowing every part, good and bad, because it was Him who placed us on the shelf in the first place. The Christ I know is the same Christ that loves thousands of millions, yet he knows me individualy, a person, a creation, separate from everyone else, yet equal in worth. That is where I find the gray. I am thankful that I don't have to have a black and white love for Jesus the same formula as everyone else, but that the God of the universe has sought after and captured me specifically, and he will never let me go, no matter how hard I run. Somehow no one ever taught me this, or maybe I just wasn't listening.

Three weeks ago I would have told you I was a good person. I thought I was better than most, if not all. I thought it was only a matter of time until I was lifted up. Not so tonight. Because I know and believe that there is a God who intimately knows every corner of my soul, there's no fooling anyone anymore. Things really aren't OK, today wasn't so great, no I'm not doing fine, how are you? I am a useless, battered, bleeding wretch of a person, and knowing that has never felt so good. I've been learning a lot about what it means to be vulnerable. The walls I had been building for so many years were beyond explanation. Not a single one of my few friends had the slightest chance of breaking through. My protection was miles deep, and rock solid. And cold, and dark, and heartbreaking. To my amazement, after so many years of desperate pleas, staying up until morning repeating the same prayer again and again and again, God somehow managed to show His love and make me see it, eyes wide open to His mercies. My defenses stand now in a weakened state, crumbling and weary to break into tear-sized pieces. I am vulnerable. These words make me vulnerable. My actions make me vulnerable. My fear, my desire, my failure, my loneliness make me vulnerable. God has made me vulnerable, and for this reason, that is how I will live. I know I am not a good person; I'm far, far from it, but at least now I feel like a person. Now I can be honest with myself, with my friends, and maybe even my family.

An hour ago I was terrified. That's one thing that hasn't changed. And it's not because I had to watch The Exorcist for my film class. I'm terrified because I have to do so much now. I have to re-make friends, they don't really know me after all, and if I really am honest like I intend to be, I have some serious hurt headed my way. My walls are still there, and when they finally do come down, it's not going to be pleasant. I have to stop stopping myself and be prepared for true brokenness, for rock bottom. Reading this, it might not be obvious that I have been a Christian all my life, from as early as I can remember. I have always been seeking God, like I said, I was the good kid (as far as everyone knew anyway), but I never stopped pretending long enough to let Him catch up to me. I've actually taught others to rely on God while I unknowingly ran full speed in the opposite direction. I'm in a position of leadership. That's pretty scary. But I'm in an excellent position to help others as I stumble along on my way. In this, I guess you could call it a watered down testimony, I poured myself out into the river of information that is the internet. Every word is calculated to bare my soul, yet still not give myself away. How much harder then will it be to do the same to my friends, where these surgical phrases hold no power. I am an exhausted thirsty camel, heavy laden and down trodden, left to wander in the desert for such an age, and I am hopefully and eagerly awaiting the straw that will bring this suffering to an end. Am I scared? I can't find words to describe this brand of fear. But surrounding, enveloping, permeating, saturating that fear is the love of God, and the hope of a new life, a new day. I can feel it tonight, just like I think I've felt it every night, it's a gut feeling, a tugging at the heart, that sorrow is only seconds away, but the beauty of what rises with the dawn is unspeakable.

Shadows

2006-02-22T09:01:00.002-06:00

I woke up at 6:15 this morning to find our lovely little town completely covered in a thick fog. You can barely see more than 10 yards in front of you. I love it. I wish I had had my camera with me when I was leaving, because the creek next to our apartment looked exactly like a rain forest in the Northwest. The pine trees and the ferns were all grey because of the fog, and the water was actually flowing through a tiny waterfall (I lovingly call it the creek of death, mostly because of the flesh-eating monster that lives in it).

I have been thinking a lot about the Pacific Northwest recently. I've always loved being in the mountains. The more remote, the better. Ever since Alaska, I've had this uncontrollable addiction, this irrational need, to go back again. I want to go right now. Today. That's how I've felt for six months. If I didn't have to take classes I would apply for a summer job there without thinking too hard. I long to be there. I don't know much about camping, but I would go backpacking in the Cascades in a heartbeat. If it wasn't a three day drive I might be tempted to just... go (That's not hard to believe if you know me). Reading up on Ansel Adams and seeing the Olympics in the Italian Alps doesn't help me out any either.

I think there is something pure about remote mountain ranges, hundreds of thousands of miles of forests taller than any building in Nacogdoches, Texas. I like the feeling of insignificance. I bet it would drive some people crazy. You can not want to conquer the world and be happy in the shadow of a mountain, I think you have to want to feel small to appreciate it.

Again?

2006-02-10T14:40:00.001-06:00

Another rainy Friday afternoon in Nacogdoches, what a surprise. Definately a movie night.

I wasn't prepared for this...

2006-02-09T22:49:00.001-06:00

What caused me to miss racquetball this morning shall forever remain a mystery, because it's gross, but more importantly, today my dream of perfect attendance was shattered and crushed, at least for this semester. For some strange reason I keep holding on to this idea that everything is about to slow down and get better, when really, I'm just falling further and further behind. I don't even have time to get a work out in, which is shocking to me. I don't have to make up an excuse to get out of exercising. I had to buy a Dayplanner. I have never used a Dayplanner before in my life, things are definately changing. Some good news, I finally ordered my new laptop. It won't be here for another month, but just the fact that it really is coming makes me very, very happy. The MacBook Pro looks sweet, and I'm sure being familiar with both Mac and PC platforms will increase some sort of career related factor... hopefully... somehow.

As far as careers go, I've found myself leaning more and more towards the art department. Communications is definately not what I want to do, even though I am doing well in it. Seminary is never out of the question, but right now I don't see myself having a capacity for leadership on that level. I can't even keep up a daily devotional, who am I to try and tell others how to build a better relationship with Christ when I haven't figured it out yet? Crosspoint Leadership is definately stretching and growing me, but I have to make some big changes in my personal life before I can move on to bigger things. Art just comforts me. I have no idea if I can create it or not, but my understanding of it has changed, or come into existance to be truthful. Drawing seems possible, but it doesn't require any artistic ability really. Photography... is really amazing. Could I do it professionally? Who knows. I do know that I have to file a degree plan soon, and I'm not even sure what my declared major is. Maybe I'll go to grad school. I could make people call me Master.

Somebody comment with something, anything. I just want to know if it is working.

Blogger: Resurrection

2006-02-06T10:41:00.002-06:00

Hi there! Looks like you've navigated all the way back to the earliest entry on my humble blog. Thanks for taking the time to investigate my writings. I've been editing my past entries, parsing out the bits that were mindless ranting and otherwise embarrassing, and saving the items that still hold some semblance of truth to them. If only we could go back and edit the occasions in our lives where we would have acted differently with our new found wisdom, except that maybe we wouldn't have gained any wisdom without all of these unfortunate incidents.

Best of luck to you, whoever you are.