Music

Have you ever gotten so angry that you could break something, that you could scream until all your breath was gone, and so loud that you hoped that everyone could hear? Have you ever been so sad that you couldn't describe it anymore, that nothing could paint a picture of how you felt, and no one could understand? Have you ever felt so in love that "I love you" just didn't say it quite like you wanted to anymore, that you just wanted to say it better, say it "more" than you ever did before? Life is about love, life is about life, and for me, life is about music. Music is the way that I express when I can't speak it anymore, when my words can't formulate the answer that i desire to say. The way I combine my fingers moving and the air exiting my lungs with vigor, shaping my lips into words fills the synapse of emptiness that I feel when I only say how I feel. When I speak, words can become jumbled, meanings discombobulated, and mispronounced words misconceived. This doesn't happen all the time, but it can, especially when emotions are strong. This is why I write music. I write music so that I can express how I feel, not just through the meanings of the words, but also through the tones of the notes, the chord progressions, minor or major, and how I crescendo and diminuendo.

"Normal"

This was a very interesting paper that I put together for my Abnormal Psychology class. :)

I define “normal” as someone, something, or somewhere that fits into the norms of the society that said someone, something, or somewhere is located. “Normal” can take both positive and negative attributes, because it carries the majority perspective of the dominant culture. In this way, sometimes it’s good to be counter-cultural, or “abnormal”, and be environmentally sustainable. However, in other ways, it is appropriate to be “normal.” Respecting elders, listening when in class are some positive “normal” behaviors that I feel are appropriate to follow through with. In addition, I think that expressing emotion, whether in public or in private, should be a “normal” action and not be considered inappropriate. This is looking at “abnormal” in more of a counter-cultural context, not in terms of behaviors in the psychological context.

            “Abnormal” is often used as a definition when something is out of the ordinary, but no other word can quite describe it. I say “abnormal” when there is murder, but no motive. When there are voices heard, but silence, and when there are characters created, but only in the cognitive fantasy. “Abnormal” is when levels of hormones go too far, and go from creating pleasure to monstrosity, or when blood sugar levels get so low, someone goes from being hungry and weak, to psychopathic. An abnormal behavior is when a rational “question” is met with an irrational response, and no repentance. In this definition, no repentance means, where some people would follow an irrational response with a recognition of their own irrationality, others will forget, or not recall their recognition. This is shown through saying a simple, “just kidding”. An example of “Abnormal behavior” is when artists buy paint instead of food, and chop off parts of their ears to express love.

            I have never been diagnosed with a maladaptive behavior, but I have known people who have. I have relatives who have suffered from depression, and I have an uncle with schizophrenic tendencies and also Parkinson’s. I have lived with my sister who suffered from depression for several years, and I know that symptoms of depression because I have experienced several myself. Knowing that I am genetically disposed for many psychological disorders makes me more aware that there are possibilities for me to suffer from them myself. However, because of this awareness, I find myself even more stubborn to get myself out of any depressing holes that I dig myself into.

            Through my personal experience, I realize that psychological disorders happen to everyone. They exist in every family, though some are more covered up than in the open. I have learned through my experience that the best way to address these disorders is to talk about them, and if one shows tendencies and symptoms, perhaps diagnosis, then, if continuous monitoring requires, medication. People having psychological disorders in secret compounds them into monsters of destruction to the beautiful mind that we are all created with.

            Abnormal behaviors are sticky to define, let alone diagnose. I can think what I want, but in the truth of it is that I use other people as my resources, and it’s a team effort to come to the present conclusions that I create in my mind. I glean for second opinions, and don’t resort to defining people’s oddities to be some life changing disorder. I hope this semester is a learning experience for me, increasing in knowledge and understanding of what maladaptive behaviors are.

Song: "Stand."

God over my fears
Take my hand
Lead me through
This death land
God over my distractions
My misconceptions
Make me dance without burdens
Be my light
In this dark night
Calm my trembling lips
Give me the strength to speak
And take the steps you call me to
On this path made by You

Here I am
Will me to stand
And raise my hands and scream
"HOLY IS YOUR NAME
OVER ALL THE EARTH
YOU MADE!"
You are here
Your mercy is clear
You want to love me
I was broken,
But now I can learn to stand.

Caretaker of my heart
Mold me now
So that I can feel your timing
Busy minds
Distract this temple
Worship becomes obligated
Spark the light
Catch me afire
Burn for all to see
That you are God
You Are God

Spirit of my soul
Breathe in me
Make my empty spaces
Into holy places
Let your wind surround me
Even when my heart is pounding
Lead me to your grace
Taste peace when you say,
"Here you will have troubles,
But take heart!
I have overcome the world!"
YOU ARE GOD!

I'm living above the cafeteria!

So I am now living on campus again.
This is exciting: I can safely say that I won't be unintentionally breaking any EMU rules by spending too many nights in a row on campus, or having to beg people to pay for me to eat in the caf. This feels great, because there is ownership in that.
I actually got to eat breakfast in the caf, and I don't remember the last time I did that. I don't even think I did that very much when I lived in Elmwood, but there seems like no point to not walk down the four flights of stairs to get to the caf when it's right there, and I don't even have to walk outside.
My room is officially starting to feel like home. There is a collage wall right above my bed, which I hope to add to as much as possible.
I paid my balance at the business office this morning, after a chilly walk to the bank to extract all my funds from my checking account. Then someone who knew my family when we went to Lindale (which was in 1996 and 1997, btw) picked me up halfway home and gave me a ride to the Commons. That was cool. I love having Mennonite connections.
When I paid my balance, I felt so blessed. I had enough money, and now I'm all set for this semester. I sent some books for some money and that didn't cost me anything. That was nice.
Now I'm in Common Grounds, spending some time with Katherine, and Mila too, later. It feels weird, because I feel like I should be doing something. I need to be okay with just being. Now that I'm going to be  on campus, there's going to be more "be" time, and I will need to find the places that I feel the most comfortable to do that. There is a wondrous prayer room with a piano in Northlawn, directly below my suite a couple floors. I'm looking forward to having lots and lots of piano time in there.
I'm on a knitting hoodie high right now, and I want to make lots and lots of hoodies for everyone!!!

We love long hair! Why?

Or we love hair that's layered, to our shoulders, the declaration of normal for American teenagers.
High schoolers, college girls, the average is long. Layers. Wear it straight, wear it scrunched, curl it!, braid it.
The latter is the reason I keep my hair long. Otherwise, if I don't have knitting, I get bored and unbearable.
More recently, Marie and I have been thinking about taking the plunge together, to go for a shorter pixieish cut. The more I think about it, the more I can't wait.
I like my curls, they are wavy and fun, but I am starting to get sick of tangles and the flyaways.
It's like a cleansing for your scalp, a weight lifted off your shoulders.
I was going to do dreads. And then shave my head.
I could still do that.
Once spring comes around, and Marie is done with Prom, it's gone.
I'm going to hold true to that promise I made to my hair dresser, that one that began, "one of these days, you are going to get to go crazy with my hair"
Patience is a virtue.
I sometimes love long hair.

I'm knitting a hoodie.

It's true.
I really wasn't going to blog about anything. I just woke up, and I was trying to add someone to follow--all my friends are going on their cross culturals (or are already gone, and most of them are blogging or emailing), and somehow I ended up clicking on the "New Post" button twice. So I decided to post.
I am knitting a hoodie, as the title states and as the first line of the post clarifies.
It looks like Joesph's TECHNICOLOR Dream Coat.
I'm serious. I couldn't be more happy about it.
Considering I have no money for yarn and this is basically all I got (give or take a few skeins) for Christmas in the yarn department, it might be a little while until I get to make another one.
I still have to replace the light on the back of my car and maybe the one on the front too (something happened finals week. There was snow on the ground. That's my excuse)
But anyway. I was going to make this hoodie for Marie. Because we have been talking about it for a little while. But I'm thinking of keeping it for a little while. It is my colors, after all. And it's amazing.
Did I tell you that I fell in love with my hoodie that I'm knitting?
Among other things,
I miss Bekah, Meg, Jamila, Ben, Mike, Andrew, Joanna, Samuel, Abi, Lizzie, Graceanne and so many more people from Kansas, from school, that I don't see very much of. Or when I'm at school, I see them all the time.
But to those of you who are going on cross cultural: Don't think about those of us in America too much, it will take away from the awesomeness of being an alien! Immerse yourself in the language and culture. Relish in your mistakes, learn from your experiences. Take pictures of grand sunsets, deep valleys, high waterfalls. Make friends! Not just with your fellow EMU students, but with those who are native to the country. Be as social as you are at EMU--that's the only way you can learn the language.
Lots of love, mittens, glittens, socks, hats, scarves, and now hoodies,
Grace

and it's me

Caught up in my own mind

Overthinking, desiring perfection

But what is this perfection?

Doesn’t my mind change one million times?

I am my own person

I create Grace on every page

I’m crazy for independence

Outside the box

Spontaneous

There is beauty in plenty

Look left and right up and down

I see it here

Why would I need more than I have-

Is it insufficient?

Is there echoing space of empty?

Swirling lines of patterns drawn

Vibrating notes held out almost too long

Can you breathe now?

Warming toes with homemade socks

Braids in hairs undone, rebraided lots

I am chaos—I am a storming brain

Catch up, catch up, see I’m picking the pace here

I would fly if I’d been given wings

Tumble turning, belt the reason why

I wanna live until I die!!

Slipping falling dancing stalling

Laughing, holding secrets in

This is where it begins.

I’ll tease until I laugh and cry at the same time

Elbow just to prove a point

Scream if I’m surprised,

Tickled pink.

Real laughter comes with a little snort

Accept me,

Expect me to resort

To doing things the hard way

Or being the weird one

I don’t mind playing in snow barefoot

Feeling the cold brings the chill to reality.

It needs to hit home for me.

I mix melody and harmony for fun.

Why should I have to choose only one?

I am variety.

I melt molds of conformity.

Tiptoe into the garden

Eavesdrop on that Everlasting Voice

Bold be Strong, throw your note in

Sing loud, say what you mean

I have peace

I breathe a breath of relief

Stability

Christmas Break

I am driven crazy with the love that I am surrounded by.
The family that I get to spend time with
My peers, my very own academics, theologians, and companions.
There is so much beauty in the crossing of the lines in relationships because we are family.
We can argue/discuss SO many different things, but still get together next year to do it again, in love.

Laughter, being the best medicine, has rid me of negativity.
"Things", walks, showers, meals, runs, helping cook and clean, "Hahahahaha, weird"
Tickle fights with sisters, gas, joking about "spirits" with Grandpa
Discussions with avid thinkers on deep and relevant topics.

It calls me back to my first love: relationship.
Just being together, communicating, touching, relating, laughing.
Teaching younger cousins funny phrases.
Chasing other young cousins around in circles until we're both dizzy.
Swinging on swings like our preteen selves once did.
Reminiscing about the "distance" to the park, thrift store.
Running to Bethel and back with Mom (woowoo)

Doing new things. Welcoming and accepting the cousins who get older and more mature
Planning our future of everyone living together , or at least closer together.
Oh the growth that is happening now, in just a few short days.
I wish we could be around everyone all year round.
Our predestined best friend relatives bring joy, happiness, change.

The first, Ben married off and in love with Maddie, and an Ellie on the way.
Abi, only my age, ink-still-wet engaged to an army boy.
Graceanne in Sweden
Anna to go to Russia or Japan,
Joanna to South Africa or China.
Abi and Andrew back to school for Psychology
Marie for vocal performance to still-who-knows-where
Me, at EMU, for Social Work.

I am
*Loving the curious interest in my piercings
"What's that on your tongue?" --Cousin Katie
"You are so bad!" --Aunt Rachel
*Pondering and treasuring
this time, seconds of giggling, words of potency and beauty and love from my truth filled family's mouths.
*Jesus being a part of the family gathering.
--finding so much more depth in relationships this year
I hope it gets deeper and deeper as we get older.

God is good.

"Please follow your dreams," & Revolutionary Road

If you don't do what you want, follow your dreams, strive after your passions, you end up like April, in Revolutionary Road. Trying to get rid of one thing so significant that it killed you, in hopes of getting back the life that you once thought you had. The life April had in the story wasn't what she'd desired. She wanted to be an actress, she wanted to explore passions, get out of the house, as a parent, and do work, have a job. Her situation changed, her husband's job was promoted and she became pregnant, so they didn't leave for Paris. As the issues continued, there were affairs, declarations of hate, and then a failed self-abortion that led to her untimely death.
In my opinion, the reasons for her demise existed because she subdued herself behind her "I don't want to talk about it"'s. She lived uncomfortably in her little housewife role for too long. Want and desire become biased behind secondary thoughts and dreams as passions, and her real needs weren't met.
--This happens to anyone when we cover our core, empirical selves, with layers upon layers of "if"'s and "perhaps"'s and "someday"'s. These cause irritation to the deepest layer, weighing it down upon itself, until implosion. They make you fight about little things, they make you hold it all in, or spew it all out. They make you do crazy things (that you once thought were crazy yourself, but rationalized it enough that it became reasonable.) in efforts to reach your utopia.
So, instead of all those bad things,
pursue what you are passionate about
take baby steps toward completing your dreams
Don't hold it in or spew it out, have balance.
Talk about it.
Have a firm foundation.

I have a home (a home!)

This past semester has been epic.
Now I'm trying to imagine any part of my life not having significant moments in it, and since God isn't the boring type, I doubt there will be. Although not everyone will find it reading worthy, my life has had some significant adjustments since that August 31st starting gun was shot.
This shindig started with a declaration of social work: a promise to fight for justice, get riled up, sing and yell loudly, and throw pillows in digust at the world. This also brought about discussions of feminism, desire for change, and love for people who truly deserve to love others just like I do.
The party continued to thrive as I adjusted to living "off" campus, and in Maplewood, bonding with people who truly supported me. I ate lunch outside with Mila until it was too cold to do so, and we moved into Common Grounds (my third home). As relationships were stripped of pedestals and revealed their true colors from across the country, I submerged myself into an ocean of love: true supportive women and men who could listen to my cries of despair, of humiliation, of discouragement, and fill me with joy and laughter, help me pick myself up off of the carpetted floor, and encouraged me to write music.
Despair was changed to hope and passion for life as my feet tredded many miles in the right direction. With goals to reach, I left behind ideals of old and pursued local friendships, food, homes, justices. I sang music for residents at VMRC. I ate local, dumpster dived, and home made food on the floor of Maplewood lounge. I immersed myself with Walking Disciples ladies, Feminism, Take Back the Night, running, inner beauty, conversations that scared me, knitting, coffee, and music. I quit things that tired me, and started things that energized me. I let myself become intrigued by people, different perspectives, and now buds a different sort of relationship, again, though with several grains of salt added to the mix (as knowledge from previous experience comes to show). I got to skip happily across those darned  generation lines as I spent more and more time with my grandparents, inviting my people to come visit for dinner, to spend the night, or to have tea.
As the finals finished, the errands run, the last note on the piano was played, and a game of Twister was began, I knew of the validity of the relationships sprouted and bloomed. I have been surrounded by a BEAUTIFUL garden of flower friends at EMU. I have fallen in love with the people, the environment, the lifestyle, and community. I have a home.

Anonymous

I'm sick and tired of listening to this
I'm motivated, but there's so much injustice
And in our hearts, we're the cause of all this
We make this about us,
We give glory to ourselves

What does money matter?
Isn't it a number on a page?
Shouldn't we take care of
Our brothers in the cold?
Can you help my sister
Here she's struggling in the street
Give her Jesus, and put some shoes on her feet

It's not about me, take my face off of this
If you want representing, call on Jesus!
Remove my name, make it anonymous
All I want is for God to shine
Live God's shine, let God shine

No self, no lies, no bias, let God shine

Work study evaluations

so I'm normal. Not over the top amazing, not below the line horrid, on my work study evaluation. I'm a tutor for math. Not many people come. I hang out on Facebook during my hours here, or do homework.

Let's face it, tutoring math is not my passion. Just because I can figure it out and teach pretty well doesn't mean it's my calling in life. It doesn't mean that I like it. It means that work study is something I do.

I don't have to be passionate about tutoring math. If I was, that would be great--hey! I'd have a career path. But I do not. I am NOT passionate about tutoring math.

I do NOT experience flow while tutoring math.

So maybe I should play piano for my career. Or talk to people as my career.
Ha. What money would I make.
Entertainment is all about performance anyway.
Which I'm good at, but eventually I run out of steam.
Or the songs don't mean the same thing.
etcetc
yea.
that's what I think.

Simmer, and stir constantly

That's really where my head is right now.
I'm living at a new intensity, and it's spinning slowly. Everything I'm surrounded by--ideals, ideas, influences, perspectives--all these things are creating and defining new aspects of my life.
I'm starting to leave things behind, and to be okay with that.
I'm seeing that this change in my life is good, and God is good, and he'll lead me in the steps that I take.

I'm remaining independent, phenomenal woman, even as relationships take new, interesting turns.

I'm letting my music speak in my life, and letting God lead me to the chords that will take form in my life. I'm enjoying the challenge of stepping (even more) outside of the box.

I'm reaching goals I set months ago, and accepting where I have come with them. Even if the expectations are different than what is actually becoming of them, I think that the goals are still met with the acceptance of myself.

That's it for now.
No regrets.

Fire

Why are we so selfish as to deny someone the freedom to love? Why can we not even think that it could be an option? Why can I love those who do not give that freedom to others!
Why is the world in a place of oppression?
Why do people have to turn to drugs and sex and self mutilation to escape the pain that people LIKE US bring them into?
Why do we think we are right over all? That we are good over all? That we are superior?
Awhile back, I blogged about perfection, and how our society has defined perfection in some myth called 'normal'. This white heterosexual English speaking (with no accent) thin good looking person with a good education, a good paycheck, and a perfect nuclear family to go home to.
If we embrace diversity so, why can't we let people be diverse!
This world is diverse. There are so many people on this earth that if we were all white heterosexual English speaking thin good looking people with good education, paycheck and perfect nuclear family, then we'd all be clones!
God did not create us to be the same. He gave us free will instead. What a gift! God created me to be unique, to wear bunny freaking slippers around campus, to make weird facial expressions, and to love uninhibited.
I do not feel oppression for these things. No one judges me for my personality or my attire. I must fit somewhere into the Judeo Christian normal continuum.
Somewhere along the way, though, humans decided that difference is bad. That we can and should condemn those who do not fit into the blueprint that we have created. And we have hated them, or do not associate with them. We destroy their happiness by locking them within their very selves and cause them to assimilate into our heterosexual society.
Do you think Jesus condemned homosexuals? Jesus condemned hippocrites. What are we?
Jesus dined with sinners. He befriended them. How can we be Jesus to anyone if we avoid them?
I don't want to be angry and anyone in particular.
I think I'm angry the most at myself because I have been silent for so long. So many times I have heard the jokes and said nothing. I've laughed at the jokes. I've read the words out of context and judged.
I don't care if I am not theologically correct.
God does not condemn those he loves because they are the way that He created them!
God.
I've been clamping my jaw together for an hour because I can't put words to my anger. I don't want to put faces to my anger because it will be anger sorely directed. I want to support, and empower. I want to educate and open people's eyes, but I AM ONLY ONE PERSON.
I am not GOD.
I cannot change people's minds.
I cannot help them see the light.
I'm so frustrated in my helplessness to solve this problem.
I feel like the more words I say the more close minded people will become.
God.
The adrenaline that is rushing through my body has given me the hunger to seek justice. I see the injustice. How can I make justice? I feel hopeless.
I know I'm here for a reason. I know I"m in the right place because I have felt this emotion.
I need to scream and cry and throw things. I don't want to break things.
I desire to feel peace with what is going on in my mind, but at the same time, I know that feeling will not give me the drive to say what I need to say.
I need to pray.
The Holy Spirit is more than enough to speak through me. Or speak through my actions.
I was in a place of comfort, and I have been approached with this discomfort. It's digging through my skin and rubbing alcohol on it. I have this burning, itching desire to help, to support, to be real. To provide a place where real can be a reality for those who need it.
I feel sick and disgusted with the world.
And there is no one to pacify this. We shouldn't be pacified.

Stop being an onlooker.

How can we be silent?

Echoes in my brain.

It's so easy to dive in, leave everything behind.
But then look back and see all that I was missing.
Decisions.
I guess we know if they are right or wrong depending on how they pan out.
Mistakes.
I know I will make them along the way.
And I hate being on the someone's bad side.
But yay! That's life.
Accountability is a little uncomfortable.
But the depth and strength in relationships that come from it are so inviting.
Listen. Openly. Really.
And don't just think the world is against you. It may be trying to teach you something.
But I can hear it in a slight tone, and I can tell from the gestures you let escape your body what you really mean.
I don't want to offend, or belittle, or exclude, or condemn.
But I'm human.
Weak. Naive. Breakable. A Conquistadora.
I want to be honest, blunt, truthful.
I am imperfect. Selfish. A thief, when I take away what I once gave without inhibition.
This continuum is so complicated.

Teach me your Ways, O God,
And lead me in the way everlasting.

Beauty in Family

So it has been a little while since I have written about beauty, although I've been surrounded by it, and have been so enveloped in love that I couldn't really express what I'm thinking.

This past weekend was our Thanksgiving Break, and I got to spend it with my family! They came here, rather than me traveling to them. I felt so loved to be surrounded by them, their realness, their love, and getting to tease and eat really really good food.

One of the things that my family does when we are together is sing hymns together. The singing was so peaceful and fun. We came together, forgetting all the chaos and little fights of the day and lifted our four-part harmony (ish) voices to God in praise. My dad was trying to teach Austin and Tyreeq the bass line. Marie and I were alternating between the melody (loud and proud), the alto line (both of us not sure what exactly we were doing, and for me, sometimes just singing the harmony that I heard, but not reading the music.

"Jumping" picture
LtoR Anna, Me, Karis, Marie, Erin, Audrey

We played football together. I was a great kicker (indoor soccer skillz), and we combined all our assets to make our awesome team. People like Joe, who, although not fast, will scare the living daylights out of the other team's quarterback when he came charging.

We prepared and ate food together. I was peeling potatoes beside my great grandmother and my cousin. I snitched celery and cream cheese from my aunt and cousin.

I went running with my mom twice; she's supporting me in my training for my half marathon, and she's been really great about it.

At my grandpa's birthday celebration, we blew up balloons, some of us (not saying ANNAy names) used certain static electricity to stick them to the ceiling and succeeded, and influenced my younger cousins to do so also...

We ate Ethiopian food--ingera and wut--and Uncle Charlie's Amazing Macaroni and Cheese.

What I cherished the most out of all the time that I had with my family was the conversations that I was able to have with people. Audrey was my roomie for a couple of nights in my grandparent's house, which was truly fun for me. I got to have a conversation with my great Grandma Souder, and promised to write her. I had a good time talking with my Grandma Peg while she was preparing food on Wednesday before everyone got there. We were bonding, as I was multitasking. . .

It was amazing to see my younger sister and my parents, and I couldn't stop hugging them. That's one of the ways that people have changed me here at EMU. I'm much more of a hugging person now than I was. But here we are so open to hug and to love openly then of course I should reciprocate onto my family, whom I have known longer and loved longer.

There was so much laughter. On Saturday night, we played the game, things, and after that, I think we all felt good and de-stressed. Things you shouldn't do on your honeymoon: binge on habenero peppers, Mennonite Your way, skinny dip in an arctic pool, drink too much apple cider *gurgle*
Things you shouldn't title a children's book: "Black women's hair", "Harold Richard gets ferocious ferocious", "The Unbuttoned Shirt", "Hate and Kill your Neighbor", "How to steal from your mom's purse and get away from it", "The Day Your Parents Got Cancer", & "When Mommy and Daddy Don't Love you Anymore."

Nyquil from Anna is love. Coming and meeting my new friend right before they left was love. Affirming comments about my music is love.

And for me love = beauty. I can't deny it.

Vending Machine

This song is about men who objectify women.
It is awesome.

Verse One:
You are the type of person who makes me regret
Being unique today.
You look me over up and down and then tell me I'm pretty
Though "complimenting" on my looks you accentuate my body
You take away my humanity when you wander you mind away

Prechorus:
I'm only the cheap jewels in your treasure box
You want my heart to be a cheap, breakable lock
So that you can enter in and tempt me with seduction
But leave like before you began, with out me name
I was just another body you claimed

Chorus:
I'm demanding equality
For freedom from super-sexuality
My beauty is more than a picture taken
Don't manipulate my God-given brain
I am beauty and also intelligence
Why do you decide to choose
Who I am like a vending machine?
I am a human being!

Verse Two:
You treat me like junk food, gobble me up and throw away the memory
Your single set mind makes you even more hungry
For you cheap rush of dopamine
You make me a means to an end
Of sexuality you can't stop,
At least, you've always thought

Watching Chick Flicks and REALITY

So this past semester has had a lot of homework, and so I haven't had any time to watch movies. I can name all the movies that I have sat completely through. King Arthur, Pocahauntas, and most recently, tonight, Bride and Prejudice.


I would like to point out that romance in movies isn't real life. Because the media influences our thoughts and processes, many people think of romance, relationships, and marriage like the way that actors portray it, which is the way they are asked to portray it by the script & the writers, which is influenced by who knows what.
Outtakes show us that people are acting, that they make mistakes, and that they sometimes have a bit of a hard time trying to act out something  If people acted like this in real life, there wouldn't be any outtakes because it would come naturally to them. They wouldn't need a script. 
Reality has something called free will, and with that free will, people live independently from the stereotypes. 
Unfortunately, the media has a deeper grip than we can loosen just by reading these words. It is a harsh truth. To live counter cultural, one almost has to reject the idea of romance. 


But how can we reject romance? I have a hard time with that. I like our culture's characteristics for "dating and relationships". I would love to receive flowers, and be asked on a date where we dress up like we're visiting our grandparent's church, and we sit at a table, order nice food, and drink nice drinks late into the night, learning about each other. I would love to spend time with someone, dancing the night away, or walking beside a river, or shopping at the mall, taking silly pictures together. 

"Silly Picture"

These ideas come from somewhere. Somewhere along the way, I was told that to have a fun, romantic relationship was to do these things. Maybe it was the novels I read, maybe it was the movies I watched, but either way, I felt like I was taught that someday I would be married, and the world would "LIVE HAPPILY FREAKING AFTER." Who freaking painted that picture? As I continue to look at the world around me and watch people as they build relationships, get engaged, get married, start a family, I see that they also have other things that are building momentum in their lives: finish high school, go to college, graduate, go to grad school, get a good job. Or also, rent an apartment, live independently, buy a house. Or, plant a garden, raise chickens, get a cow, go buy a barn. These are other things that we can do with our lives. Each of us has a different path. Marriage may or may not be a part of it, and if it is, that's great. If it's not, then that's great too! 

Because of society's interpretation of romance, I had high expectations for relationships. They had to work out. There had to be a certain amount of effort put into the relationship to label it as a "relationship." I think a lot of people put expectations into their relationships. But because we all have free will, how could any of these expectations be met as we expected, unless someone was following the script written by the expecter. There's also the agony of things like "breaking up" or expressing that you aren't in love or whatever. There's almost some stigma for telling how you really feel, because there's so much of an expectation (see, there it is again) that you should be in love, and if you aren't in love, you should get in love. I think communication is so much more important. Be frank, dangit. I'm not sure how I feel about you. If a guy said that to me, props to him.

Since I was a little girl, I always thought that marriage was the epic step that I was going to take. Once I found my "true Love" the fire was going to be lit, and my life was never going to be the same. The veil would (literally) be lifted to my whole new world. Because I wanted this idea of marriage so bad, I was ready to look into the eyes of anyone who swore they loved me and think that I was going to be with them forever. To say that this semester has been one of epic change might be an understatement, because I went from, "I found the one--we're getting engaged soon! Wait until you meet him!" to, "He never really was in love with me, and it's over," and that really redrew the entire thought of true love for me. 

Or the idea of romance.  One can be romantic, one can be a friend, one can be a lover. Does one have to be in love to have true love? What is true love? Is true love that kind of love that you fall into? (because if it is, then I've fallen into true love a couple times.) If true love is that type of love, then what does it mean to fall in love? What does it mean be in a relationship? All these things are defined by the society around me, so how do I make them my own?

Right now, I'm "married" to two other women. I lived with them for the first half of the semester, and now, and soon, we will be starting our long distance relationship. Though this is a joke; I am not, in fact, a bisexual polygamist, it is what I need right now. They are my closest friends, and I hold to them, laugh with them, cry with them (sometimes after laughing), and we care for each other. We are all growing alike. We all carry our passion on our sleeve. Spending time with these girls, eating, snuggling, laughing, talking, coloring, I have grown so much in myself, and what I need to "be".

So What is love? 

(baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more)

Love is what lifts us up where we belong. 

"Love it will not betray you
Dismay or enslave you, it will set you free
Be more like the man you were made to be
There is a design, an alignment, a cry
Of my heart to see,
The beauty of love as it was made to be"

--Mumford and Sons, "Sigh No More"

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶ Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

 ⁸ Love never fails."
1 Corinthians 13: 4-8a

So what love is, who love is with, in reality, in relationships, sometimes love hurts. Sometimes those who love you do hurt you, but they still love you. Sometimes true love means letting go and moving on. Maybe true love happens many times in a life time, and you can fall into true love with many people at the same time. Maybe that's how God feels about us. 

Today is TO WRITE LOVE ON HER ARMS day

Today I represent hope beauty for those who look in the mirror and feel hate toward their entire person so much so that they hurt themselves.
I,We, She, He, They, We desire love so much that we think we can only earn it, and only from other people. Love is not earned. Love is given, love is a gift. Love is unconditional, so no matter what you look like, that means the love is equal. Love is equal rights. Love is so blind that people who look different, love different are LOVED.
We receive love from others, this is true. This love can only temporarily sustain us. This love can seem absent when our lovers are absent. We need to love ourselves. This is a love that is sustained through our lives. We maintain self-love by resting, by exercising, by emotionalizing. Taking time to be spiritual, thoughtful, and seeking balance is a way to pursue self-love. Taking care of yourself is loving yourself.
Our creator is heaven also loves us, with more unconditional mercy than we think we deserve. Where other people's love is finitely sustained, Holy Spirit's love is infinite, and keeps on giving.
When we finally love ourselves, and stop criticizing the "imperfections" that society tries to load upon us, we see the beauty that echos from our lips each time we can be real with other people. We express our confidence, subtly or loud and proud, and not care what other people think. Then we let our beauty blind people.
Overcoming anything is a struggle. Lack of self-love makes one have no drive to do anything; it makes life slavery. The idea of writing LOVE on her arms is to overcome Self-hate with self-love. Even though the people who are writing LOVE on their arms might not have had the struggles that people who cut themselves have, and they cannot provide the love that each person is searching for, they can support, they will support, and they will love.
I will Love like there is no tomorrow (will you?). There might not be, you know.

Beauty in Song

I find that one of the ways that I can show my own beauty is through singing and through writing music. When I got a chance to play "light the silence" for this year's Take Back the Night chapel and coffeehouse, I felt blessed to express inspiration for those who needed it.

I was also blessed by a fellow student, with an invitation to join one of the bands on campus. It turned out to be very beneficial and fun for me, and we have had two performances--one for chapel, and one for Dialogue On Race and Diversity Worship Night. I got to play three of my own songs at the beginning of this event as well.

This beauty thing is for me, but it's not for me as well. Although I would say that within music, my beauty is blooming for others to see, I wouldn't say that it is something that I am unconfident in. And although I need growth in the area, as sometime in the future I will be able to record and have a CD or my music, and there is a lot of work in that, I know that this project and idea is not all about me. Although everyone needs certain levels of empowerment, I know I'm one that needs less in comparison to others.

So with that disclaimer, the truth in all of this is that I WANT to empower others to embrace their own beauty in individuality, in confidence. Part of this is recreating beauty. Knowing that I am an individual makes it impossible for me to redefine beauty by myself. Beauty is different in every person. Where some people are confident in clothes and in things they have to say, others carry their beauty in their art work, in their food justice. Others carry their beauty in their beautiful unwashed hair. Beauty is confidence. Beauty is laughing so hard you cry (or snort).

As we recreate beauty, what makes you your beautiful self? What's striking and individual about you that you see about yourself and makes you overflow with love for whatever you love?

Here's "reclaiming beauty"

It's just genetics
Combinations of chemicals
That create who we see
This makes me unique
No one else
Carries elements like me

Then somewhere I lost me
Under masks I wear
Wanting to please Society
We've molded ourselves
To their blueprint for beauty

I want to bring back beauty
Like birds singing
Like leaves tinged by sunset sky
I want to see individuality
Confidence overflowing
I want acceptance for who I am
Even with "said" imperfections
I was created woman
Don't underestimate me
This is real beauty

It's just genetics
Combinations of chemicals that create
Who you see
This makes you unique
No one else
Carries elements like you

Then somewhere you lost you

Under masks you wear

Wanting to please Society

We've molded ourselves

To their blueprint for beauty

Women made into mannequins by this media

Plastic-coated shiny perfect

Covered in makeup

Just sexy and helpless

How could we call this 

beauty??

What is strength, depth, intelligence

Aren't we perseverance, endurance

Confidence over fashion sense
Individuality--it is beauty.