Monday, January 2, 2012

Wandering Wonder...?

When I traveled to Europe two years ago, my wanderlust infected self reflected. Often. 

One of the beautiful outcomes of this reflection was a need to redefine some of the more commonly reference virtues and emotions. I was wary that this practice was a one-off, but as I sat to journal for the first time in 2012, on my flight across the Atlantic, it happened again.

 Wonderful.
 
"I almost feel as though my excitement has hit a wall. You can only maintain a future-oriented emotion for so long. It seems that anxiousness, nervousness, and excitement have expiration dates - or perhaps Fill To lines? Either way, I'm hoping that every emotion runs anew upon landing in London... 
 Wonder. Now that's a future-oriented emotion. But it never runs out. 
Some people just lose wonder. Forget what it is - how it feels coarsing through your blood. Most, however, always send something of "wonder". Maybe the reason it can be sustained is due to the fact that wonder is not focused on the self. 

 Wonder, awe, marvel - these are all selfless emotions. They turn the gaze of the subject to an outside object. Nervousness, anxiety, excitement, on the other hand, are all intraspective. They may regard or incorporate other objects, but the focal point is on he self, and how the self experiences or acts. 

 How much more beautiful is wonder? It is Marvelous, Awesome, Wonderful. There it is then. That's it. A pledge: To live this trip inundated, insulated, and inebriated with a sense of wonder."

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Pour the Concrete, and Bend the Rebar...

We pick up the story a year later...

The personal, processing online journal version of a blog seems to have gone out of fashion. So naturally, I'm starting mine back up. Walking through the events of the past few days or hours or minutes through typing is meticulously therapeutic. It's a brutal way to view your life. Even if you don't publish the harshness, the misunderstood moments, the places where you see the dark side of yourself reflected in your memory, you have to relive them when you type. It isn't "fun", but it is so virtuous. Especially in times and places where you are far from those conversations during which you would usually stare yourself in the face.

And that's why this is back online. 

It's a form of self therapy, it's a sketch pad, a drawing board, it's a way to keep people informed,  and it's a shameless attempt at maintaining some form of creativity in my everyday life. 

I'm excited to start writing again. To post a picture or two. To hear from someone an ocean away, reminding me that I use too many commas, try to reenact conversation too literally, or read too much into the little things. What can I say? It's a work in progress.

Time to start constructing...

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

These Paperbacks, They Know Their Age...

Last night I stumbled upon a copy of Samuel Goodrich's

History of All Nations

A two-volume encyclopedia of the entire history of the entire world. And it was published in 1852.

I would have snatched those books up in a heartbeat if it weren't for the price. But that didn't stop me from snapping a few pictures of some of the best parts.

Obviously, my heritage was  paramount. And Mr. Goodrich, being a good Briton, did not disappoint:

"The Irish distill whiskey from a barley in their own cottages, where they elude the vigilance of  the local officers. What is thus illegally made is called potchen. This liquor was first known in Ireland by the name of usquebaugh (translates to: water or life). The use of it has been carried to great excess among the lower orders, who delight in all kinds of meetings which give them an opportunity of drinking together. To this propensity perhaps may be traced the custom of  waking the dead. Whenever a poor person dies, the neighbors assemble to drink, smoke, and lament the departure of the deceased. This is a very ancient custom, and is regarded so indispensable , that a laborer whose relative has died, and whose children are running about half naked, will spend a month's wages in whiskey and tobacco for the men and women who come to the wake, which is often continued for two or three days, and nights. The intemperance of the Irish has, however, been somewhat checked by the exertions of Father Matthew."

Of course, there is another famous Irish pastime:

"They are generally destitute of that sober and steady spirit of enterprise which distinguishes the English. The love of combat seems to be a general infirmary. The Irish do not fight single-handed, but in bands, and on a great scale. When an individual imagines himself insulted, he goes round to his companions, friends, and townsmen, and collects a multitude, who make a joint attack on the offending party. This is their practice also in America. The light frailties of the Irish are vanity, loquacity, a readiness to speak as well as to act without deliberation, and a hurry and confusion of ideas which so often lead them to that particular sort of blunder called a bull."

And of course, in all my jolliness, I had to find something that almost brought a tear to my eye due to its sadness:

Gaza - Lying on the eastern shore of the Mediterranean, and at the southern extremity of Palestine, Gaza belonged to the Philistines, then to the Hebrews, then covered its liberties in the reigns of Jotham and [illegible], and was reconquered by Hezekiah. It was then subjected to the Chaldeans, who conquered Syria and Phonecia. They were masters of it when Alexander besieged, took, and destroyed it. Strabo says that "he rendered it a desert." He at least dismantled it. and another city, rose from its ruins, nearer to the sea.
It has since undergone many changes. The town stands three miles from the sea, and has an indefinite port. Its population is fifteen to sixteen thousand, and is engaged in part in the manufacture of cotton. Its position as a frontier town, the key of Palestine, serves its importance, and it is now the most populous of the cities of Palestine. A considerable number of Christians live here by themselves, in a particular part of the place. As Gaza stands on an eminence, it is considered picturesque by the number of fine minarets and spires, which rise majestically above the buildings."

Oh, the changes of 160 years...

Thursday, December 23, 2010

'Meri-cuh.

So if I dislike this with the entirety of both my religious and political selves, does that make me a bad Christian, or a bad American?


Oooh... I think it makes me gay, cause I'm definitely supposed to thoroughly enjoy this picture:


Ah yes, nothing says Christian Nation like a scantily clad, seductively posing, temptress. 

Here's a gem from the About Us section:

Also, the history of our country is being rewritten to exclude it’s Christian heritage, our leaders are distancing themselves from Christianity, stating that we are NOT a Christian nation but we ARE one of the largest Muslim population countries in the world!? This has all led to a hostile environment toward Christians making it increasingly difficult for Christians to live in America without prejudice and without being persecuted for our beliefs.  Our laws and government are ever increasingly becoming “Godless” as well.  This is all having an alarming affect on the direction of the country.  America is moving away from Christianity and toward communism, which is rooted in an atheist worldview/religion.

Fear. Fear all ye patriotic protestants. 

There is so much I want to say, but really, Steven Colbert just says it a lot better:



Sunday, September 26, 2010

State Street Study...

There was He.
Middle-aged, foreign, cultured and robust.
He sat on a rigid, unforgiving wooden street-side bench. It didn't look comfortable, but He didn't seem to mind.
He was focused, intense.
His fingers flashed and rattled across the brazen guitar strings.
It was obvious that He was an expert in the field of Spanish Guitar. He was playing so vividly that a large crowd of slack-jawed bystanders began to form.
His hands continued to strum, his melodies flowed, rose, and crashed, and His smile cracked.

There was She.
Young, haughty, glamorous and busy.
She walked on extreme, unnecessary heels. They didn't look comfortable, but it was in the name of "looking good".
She was preoccupied, elsewhere.
Her voice heightened over the obnoxious noise of some guy on a bench.
It was obvious that She was an expert in the field of Haute Couture.  She was talking into her phone so loudly that a large crowd of bystanders began to stare.
Her mouth continued to run, Her words meshed, strained, and shivered, and Her pace quickened.

And there was I.
Silent, intrigued, captivated, and fascinated. 
I sat on cold, harsh metal. It wasn't comfortable, but I couldn't pull my gaze away from the art in front of Me.
I was present, enraptured.
My interest piqued as I watched a potential exchange fizzle. 
It was obvious that I was an expert in the field of Passive Observance. I was watching as She obliviously hurried by absolute beauty that a large crowd of bystanders noticed.
My thoughts continued to wander, and I debated stopping Her or paying Him, instead my ears perked, and I just kept listening. 

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Homemade Lebanese Pizza...

Lebanese Pizza

Ingredients:
1 piece Pita bread (rosemary works quite well)
5 Kalamata olives
5 slices cucumber
3 baby bella mushrooms
1 fresh onion
1/2 tablespoon olive oil
1/4 teaspoon thyme
1 dash cili powder
1 dash black pepper
(Note: this hummus recipe makes a lot more than is necessary for this recipe. Also, picture shows two pizzas, but ingredients listed are for one. Simply double amounts for best results.) 

Directions:
1. Using the link above, make homemade hummus (ingredients: 1 19 oz. can garbonzo beans,  3 tbs Tahini paste, 2 tbs olive oil, 4 tbs lemon juice, 2 cloves garlic, 1 tsp salt, dash of Cumin)
2. Spread hummus over pita bread
3. Spread olives and cucumbers over pita
4. Sprinkle  1/5 tsp of thyme on pita
5. Chop onion (only use about 1/10 of onion) and mushrooms
6. Sauté mushrooms and onions in olive oil for about 2 minutes (until mushrooms are brown)
7. Add dash of chili powder, dash of black pepper, and rest of thyme to mushroom/onion mix
8. Spread mix over pita
9. Munch

I realize that this dish is not distinctly Lebanese nor is it actually pizza. But here's the deal, this is what I made myself for lunch (making up the recipe as I went), and it was just too good not to write down. So, if you happen to try this, let me know what you think of it! I'll be scarfing these more and more often. 

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Fahrenheit 451

-To Terry Jones and the Dove World Outreach Center


For the non-German-speaking population, it reads:
"Where they burns books, they will end up reading bodies"
The plaque rests at the edge of Babelplatz in Berlin, the site of the Nazi book-burning rallies.
The quote was originally spoken by Henrich Heine in 1820