so close

Here's the thing. I'm tired of my roommates, friends, strangers and aquaintences telling me I'm almost done. I know that I am, yet in my mind I know I have a large amount of work still to complete. I realized it this evening, as all of my friends are downstairs listening to music, cooking on the BBQ and sitting by our fire pit, that I just want to be finished. 

The thing is I am almost done. I have until Tuesday at 2:00 to finish everything I need to finish but I am a little behind. Things I have yet to complete: 

A final portfolio essay, about myself, my time at Vanguard and my future plans

A final American Literature Paper, about Allen Ginsberg's "Howl"

Study and get an A on a Renaissance and Reformation final

I feel like I should be stressed about getting these things done by their respective due dates/times. However for some reason I'm not. At this point all I can do is work as diligently and well as I can. The finished just follows after that right? 

I have a whole heap of things I just can't wait to do. 

she's 6 today

rosy cheeks

and a giggle to match

braids down you back

leggings– cute shoes

nothing you lack

a beautiful muse. 

we bounce to the beat

of harmonica songs

hot chocolate 

chai tea

oh, all night long.

so full of 

life

wonder in the world

your eyes so bright

beautiful girl. 

as you grow 

tall before me

from new

innocent eyes

you begin to see

hearts alive 

in their own creativity.

whisps of hair

around ears that

hear

and I believe

that your heart

in time

will beat to the rhythm

of your own song

and 

rhyme. 

Lovebug you are so special to me!

sixteen years

I remember the day I started Kindergarten– well maybe its a combination of stories I've been told and colors I remember, but it was significant. 

This afternoon I attended my last class. I didn't hit me driving there, or walking in but when I sat down my friend Kristin looked over at me and asked, "is this your last class?". Then, then was the moment I realized that the day had come. In the beginning people said "you'll graduate from college and then you won't have to go to school ever again" and in my elementary mind that wasn't even something I could grasp. In high school college felt like this huge weight, expected of me and the final days there were just the beginning of something new. But today I sat for the last time at Vanguard at a table listening to a lecture, learning in order to somehow better myself or prove to the world that I, in fact, am intelligent. Post-college...what's that like? Right now it feels like an empty abyss with bits and pieces starting to formulate in my mind, a few hopes and dreams I have for myself. 

I'm done with sixteen years of school. Done and I don't have to go again if I decide not to–but I want to, thats the thing. 

Today in our last class of Renaissance and Reformation we talked about the counter-Reformation and the Council of Trent. The response of the Catholic church to the Reformation was formational for the church as a whole. They cemented a canon, took and left some Reformation ideas and reformed the way the leadership of the church were educated. Ed then shared with us his opinion that the Reformation is indeed over, and stressed how important it is for each denomination, or group of believers in the church should thus cooperate, and live like we actually want to. Rather than continue to argue and disown each other like the Reformation is still going on. It's not. 

I'm so blessed to have had this as my last class at Vanguard. This specific professor is one of the best I have ever learned from and considering I had the best Kindergarten teacher as well (Mrs. Sperry) I will consider this process a success. 

Thanks Ed, for making it memorable. 

finals..finally.

I'm in the middle of my last week of classes and of course there are books everywhere I look. Nothing new. I have a little checklist of things to do before Tuesday next week, and slowly and surely they get checked off. 

I'm slowly beginning to reflect on these past eight semesters of my life. My favorite high school English teacher said to me once, "By the time you get the hang of college, and feel like you know how to do it well, it will be over". In my circumstance I feel there are partial truths here. Yes, I do feel like I am just now getting the hang of this, starting to really engage in what I am learning and have just developed my own academic style. Yet, I have been feeling this wind down for a while. I started school again this year in a very different place and felt a bit disconnected from it. 

I was telling a friend and professor last week, "I'm not sure I'll miss Vanguard, the place itself, but I will miss learning in a classroom setting".

But for right now I am really enjoying the morning at my desk, with a cup of Chai tea, discovering new poetry finding myself falling in love with the written word all over again.  

breathtaking

I was on campus the other day and saw this in a tucked away corner. It stopped me dead in my tracks. The picture hardly does it justice. What artist could create something this beautiful?

i believe God gave us feet for a reason

Lately I have been feeling so much angst toward my car. 

Firstly, the paint is fading majorly and I've been warned about that going past the primer. Cool. The air conditioning is broken, one of the nobs to control the heat temperature is broken, it leaks oil. Both of my back speakers are blown out and its pretty much always dirty, cause its black. I'd like to sell it. 

Also, I've noticed that I have to keep filling it up with gas, and most often I don't have enough money to put more than 15 dollars in at a time. Not to mention the crime, death, war, pollution and corruption that is a result of the oil my car eats. 

When you drive a car you have to stop at every. single. stinkin. red. light. And you have to sit in the  s  l   o  w e s t trafficinth e   c  o u  n   t   r   y. 

I don't ever see people in Orange County. I mean, I see the people I drive to, and drive from. But other than that all I see are cars, cars, cars, cars. I see the backs of cars and fronts of cars and sides of cars as they almost merge into my car and cars I will never be able to afford. Cars fill up parking spaces and I have to walk back to my house. Cars prevent me from turning out of my driveway for a solid four minutes while I'm late to class. Huge cars prevent me from seeing anything in front of me and thousands of cars box me in and make me feel stifled and stuck– anything but "free".

I wish I could remember that there are people in all of these cars. Sometimes I forget. Forget that there are actually people all around me. But here we are so so so good at hiding in our own little worlds and car bubbles we don't have to ever interact with anyone. Just cars on the freeway. 

Can't we all just walk down the freeway? Just once? 

dryermonster

I just did two loads of laundry. From that laundry came 5 socks, clean. 

a) 5 is not the right number for socks. 

b) None of these socks match. 

c) None of these socks are mine. 

What HAPPENED??!

Philosophical Inquiry

I just want to know how

you are doing—

how time, a distant relative,

has sketched your face

in lines and circles,

how you see the world

when your eyes are shut

and you are sleeping,

consciousness only memory,

or how you fill space

with your body, moving

past wholes and halves

of steps towards me,

this moment

a justified belief.

-Kohleun Adamson, a friend of mine from Oxford. 

She presented this piece at the Christianity and Literature Conference this last month. 

denouement: [dey-noo-MAHn] –noun, a final resolution of the intricacies of a plot, as of a play or novel

Well, were done. I haven't really been writing about the journal we have been putting together this semester. Mostly because the process was pretty simple and didn't warrant much updating. (Other than I drove around the same complex for a half an hour one morning looking for the printer.) This afternoon Hannah and I went to pick up the 175 copies of this year's Synecdoche and this evening we threw a party. 

It was small, the Great Commission Hall doesn't really hold many people anyway. Decorated with a sort of vintage garden theme, the candlelit ambiance was fitting. We talked and laughed drinking coffee and enjoyed deserts and strawberries (my favorite). A few writers were chosen to read pieces out of the journal and awards were passed out. I received one for "Outstanding Literary Creativity", one of three awards given. 

The evening got me thinking about endings. Denouement, this word describes the season I am in really well. I entered into my ending time at Vanguard after Spring Break, and tonight was the first time I felt emotion toward leaving. Maybe it was because I was with some of my favorite people (Sam and Beth both came which meant the world to me) or maybe speeches about our accomplishments always play a chord in me. I am more than excited about my next steps, but I'm also starting to reminisce about those that got me here.  

sounds like a movement

Check this out and jump on board. 

Sounds Like a Movement

A brand-new non-profit looking to create synergy between social justice action and creative expression. Events every week in the Orange County area with some really great people.