home

I was at my parents house today. And we went to movie and saw one of my mom's friend, who siad, "oh, you are home from college" in quite an emphatic way. Like there was no way I could get out of it. Home. I'm not sure where that is right now or what that means. I htink I feel lke here in Fort Collins is really home because it is the place I have chosen and place that I want to be and Greeley is not. I wouldn't choose it. In fact, being there today sort of made me tired and I found myself wanting to leave really as soon as possible. I'm not sure where I am going with this, mostly becuase it is still a question. A question I have been asking myself and mulling over for a good part of the day. Does it even matter? What does that mean, "home is where the heart is?" And i am continually thinking about that thing Jesus said to his mom about in order to follow him, we must be willing to hate our moms and brothers and dads. Or how he siad he never had a place to lay his head, but that didn't seem to bother him. Home. Its the webpage that comes up when you open firefox or explorer or netscape or whatever you use. The one that you always need or that you find yourself using the most. I mean, I suppose home is assumed to be the place you find yourself longing to be, the plafce that when you think of it, you think of familiarity and warmth and comfort. Roots and history, memories, and safety.

Home. I don't really know where that is or what that means. It feels like things are always changing. Each second is all its own and to try to harness it is frustrating and suffocating. So what is home. I don't know. Maybe it is the place were you feel like you really are free to be whoever it is that you are after the lights turn off and people stop grading. Stop scrutizing. They just aren't looking or caring, so you just become.

I've been thinking about something else too. The fact that I like to keep myself numb to love. I don't like to say things like, "I missed you too." or "I love you too." Its like this wall that says not to expose that. That must be what it is. Vulnerability. I thought I could be pretty transparent, but apparently that isn't the same thing. sometimes I just feel really stupid about it. Today when I was leaving the house, my mom just said to me, "I love you." and I just sort of looked at the floor with a shut mouth. It was akward for me, but par for the course. I do love my mom. Mom, I do love you. But its like those words don't leave the threshold of my mouth. Even just writing this and thinknig about publishing it and then imagining you all reading it makes me uneasy. So, there is a problem that I have. Vulnerability issues. Big surprise.

So there is that. A few questions.

It has been interesting these past few weeks, really thinking about leaving. Considering this whole thing as the actualy possibility that it is. Time with friends are like sweet, rare, honey. For some reason I have suddenly been talking to a lot more people from high school and somehow this whole stupid bitterness thing I used to have is fading away into realistic and rational considerations, so that is nice. Its like I find myself having the ability to just hope that people know I mean it when I say, "how are you" and that I am excited to know what these kids I used to know are doing. so that has been nice. one little celebration for the day.

So appearantly the habbits from the semester have stuck as much as I like it or not. It is 7:07 in the morning and I am awake. The day I was so pleased that I wouldn't have to get up early to work on a paper. Here, I am, awake, when I don' thave class for three hours. Ah class. The last two of this semester.

The semseter. So here we are. So this is what it is like. Over. The times that I have a paused in reflection lately, trying to pin down something to say about this semester to define it, the only thing that I could really come up with was the fact that it is so different. It is a semester like none before. It has been my first semester really living on my own (which is wonderful, by the way). My first semester really getting into my major. Relationships that I woudn't have predicted or picked for myself. A semester that I can actually see the ways that I have grown. I when I say see, i mean that literally. I feel like I have started building realtionships with professors and I have gotten over a lot of fears in that area. I have become a better writer and definately have learned to love reading and writing even more than I did before. I have been inspired by instructors who love what they do,have grown fond of teaching and making art over many many years. I have loved my instructors this semester becuase they have not been afraid just to be passionate about their field and they demand the same kind of passion. I hope I have lived up to their expecations-- i think i have.

Learning. I love learning. I love the challenge. Ok, sometimes I hate it. But I love it at the same time. I remember right at the beginning of the semester, my painting professor said, "Make friends with fear and frustration, for they will always be with you." Later, at the artist lecture that Jenninfer McGlaughlin gave, she said that only true paintings come from difficulty and struggle. A few weeks ago, in my painting class again, my instructor was talking to someone about how painting is, saying"To be a painter you have to love the struggle." She has said to me on many occassions that I am a natural painter (an immense compliment, of which I am extremely honored and humbled) and the juxtaposition of those two statements have forced me to ask myself, "Do I love the struggle? Do I love the process of finding in the making?" I think so. I think this semester has definately taught me to love that process more than before. I think I never realized how much there was to see until I have been shown this semester. There is a lot to see and so there is a lot to make. It is very exciting, but also quite demanding. It demands bravery.

I am finding myself in the midst of this Chrimstas season mulling over that part in the Christmas story where it keeps repeating, "And Mary treasured up all of these things and pondered them in her heart." Somehow I feel like I can identify with Mary more this year. As I walk around campus throughout my day, I find little things that i treasure up in my heart and ponder, especially as the semester's end approaches. Little things that I love, that I want to hold on to. People i see and savor the passing hi as we rush across campus. there is just something about that that I can see her experiencing all of these little moments, holding on to them, but not really sure what they mean.

In the same breath, I have felt a little like I have wanted to hold back to things, or hold on to some areas as the semester has ended and that is hard. I don't know what to do with goodbyes that mean I may never see you again. That is hard for me. I have some regrets about the fact that not only did I not really meet very many new people this semester, but I hardly saw the people I already know. AndI don't know what to do with that. I have this sort of humming pain at the center of my chest from that. Like there are these people that I used to be connected to, and I long to still be connected to, but I am tired of trying to reach out for them between the cracks of our busy schedules. Its like it just hasn't happened and I'm not all that sure why outside of how busy we are and our random assemblage of friendships is unsustainable in such a system as we opperate. I don't know. But I think I am having a hard time thinking that I am leaving, going farther away, realizing the arm between the planks of the fence is gonig to be stretched further or else maybe that part of me might just fade away. And I don't know what to do with that. It just hurts like a continual pressure at the center of my chest. I'm not sure what to do with it, so it just stays there, akward. I just feel grieved, but crippled, that those friendships are just passing. Like I know where they live, but i'm too busy or they're too busy and... I don't know. Something just gets left.

I think I'm struggling with the idea of leaving that sort of just hanging there. Will they think of me to say goodbye? Or will it just fall off. Its like this impossible dream, just out of reach. I don't know. I think with my professors, I hope that I can see them again, have them as mentors in the future and i fear that they will be gone when I get back. And I realize that is sort of irrational, but nevertheless, it must be my loyal spirit cying out insdie of me, like a child trapped inside.

Someday maybe I will know what to do with that.

But alas, it is the last day of the semester. Not only do I usually enjoy my short fridays, today I think I will more than ever. A few weeks ago, at the start of this holiday season, I was just thinking about what Christmas means, why we go through this whole ordeal, in the midst of this tired old controversy about who gets to lay claim to the season-- the pagans or the holy ones. And I just sort of realized it is a time so important to everyone becuase it is this whole month that we take just to celebrate. We celebrate the fact that we made it through the year alive. It is a time that we spend with family becuase once again we have journeyed with them in some capacity and want to share this celebration with them too. I think the fact that God sent his Redemption Son only adds to the celebration. It is sort of a way of remembering that even though the year has been long and full and hard in some parts, God is continually giving us a clean slate. Its like we are reflecting on what our lives have been and are given the opportuninty to revel in and embrace the idea that God is giving us a new year. All the things that I regret, all the things that just went wrong, all the mistakes I made in 2006 are behind us now-- he has sent his Son so that we may truly have a new year. And I think that is beautiful.

So as I embark on the glory of my month-long break, I am just looking forward to celebrating. Celebrating the air i breathe again (since it seems that I have forgotten to do that for a few weeks). Celebrating the friends and family that I have around me who love me deeply and dearly, even when I struggle to express my return of affection. Celebrate how I have learned. Celebrate my love for art-making and maybe take some time to do that for myself. Simply celebrate the fact that I can just do nothing for a while. That I can sleep in and then go through the day and just be. That will be refreshing. To know that today I hand over my ball and chains in a little yellow folder and a big cardboard portfolio-- for tomorrow there is at last nothing due.

I must be loosing my mind. Or something. I am baffled, confused, but mostly frustrated. A little angry, actually. Three people. In a row. How do you manage to have three people stand you up in a row? i mean, seriously. Things are not going well. This roommate hunt is getting long, and, quite frankly, old. I'm tired. God, aren't you bigger than this? I mean, I thought I was doing a pretty good job of trusting that you were, but I'm a little lost on why you haven't like pulled out the lightning and stuff yet. And, how is this helping me write a paper if I am too angry and frustrated to focus? Hm? Yeah. I'd like an answer.

4:42 p.m. There is something romantic about the city bus. There is some strange thing about when you ride it, you are somehow one with the people. The big city. Or, in my case, the little college town. But I was just thinking as I rode the 3 blocks from campus to the stop around the corner from my house, how there is something about mass transportation. I was thinking about my trip to Chicago last year as I trecked through the slush that remains of the snow and as I looked at the gray cloudy scky. I was thinking about how we rode the bus all around that beautiful city and it felt like we were experiencing what people's lives are like. The woman on her way home from the grocery store after working her shift as the cashier. The actress in tall boots consoling a friend who did not get the part in the play she auditioned for and went on to laudly explain what show's she had been in.

And I was thinking about what it is like here in little Fort Collins, full of college students and parents and thier soccer-playing kids. How you know your city isn't that big when you have no reservations about driving across it.

And as I was thinking about all of this, this wonderful trip that I took one year ago, where I was last time we were calling the month December and how I loved where I was at that moment, but where I am today is good too. I've been thinking about my life. How I am enjoying where I am at this moment. Laughing at my brilliant painting instructor and feeling warm inside as I crawl into bed after a day that was long enough to be called unnatural. And I've been thinking to myself, why would I choose to go off and do something different? Why would I actively choose to change all of this? But today I began to see that a year from now, things will be different. And they may be good. Or they may be hard. But that doesn't make today any less today. That doesn't make today any less wonderful or good. This is today and there is something else in store tomorrow.

...

The work for my painting class is officially done. Final complete. Critique endured gracefully. the entirety of the 70x40 display of my growth of the semester hanging proudly in the entry way of the art building. Accomplishement. What a great semster this has been. I had a feelnig it would be wonderful, but I did not know how things would end, where I would be standing and looking back. It is quite beautiful. I know I have a long way to go yet, but it is sweetly satisfying to see a glimpse of what art may actually be like floqing from my fingers. Brilliant. Did I mention I love learning? Well, I do.

And so now, to write the paper...

i'm waiting for the day
That I can stop waiting for another day
I'm sorry to be discontent
and i feel like my life is outliving me
like things are just happening
and I'm sort of watching
out of my peripheral

And i'm sorry
i feel ashamed
but that is where I am at the moment
I want to be done with the work
I'm ready for a rest
I've worked hard
And I just want to skip over the rest
Are we there yet?

I'm not sure who I am
Where I stand
What is this rock
Beneath my feet?
Why does it suddenly seem
So unstable?

I haven't noticed that much
I find myself sitting
Wondering when the clock
Will allow me on to the next thing
Maybe I'm hoping the next thing
Will bring me closer
To rest.

its 12:06 according to the clock on my computer, so that probably means it is some number of minutes earlier. Its friday night and it has been quite a week. I had big, productive plans that did not actually all turn out like I wanted them to. But I did do a few things I am proud of, found some drops of discipline down in the barrel somewhere.

The semester is coming to an end quickly. Things are changing, becoming real and it feels mostly like monday was just yesterday. I saw two people from my dorm hall today and got a few facebook comments from some other long lost strangers. Thinking about people and missing them, wishing that I had more time, that it wasn't so easy for me to hole myself up in this apartment with a book. Regretting that I hadn't called up those old friends from the dorm at the beginning of the semester instead just meeting them by chance in the library or on the bus with one week left. Before everything changes. Before my life exists in a different form once again. That is sort of the strange think about college, about life really. Things are always changing. Your context is different all the time. Last week I was here, with these people, doing this thing. see, we have a picture that I posted on myspace. This week, I am here now, totally different. Different people, different place, different reason.

The semester is quickly coming to an end. Its getting close to that time that I become reflexive, I look back and see the road behind me. I'm a bit to tired tonight to do a lot of hard thinking, but I think I am looking forward to the night or afternoon when I can sit down here and being the post with, "So the semester has ended..." And at the same time, I think that will also be a sad, sort of strange day when things have changed and all of this feels more real than ever... Until then. It is not long off.

Let Down

My fingers hurt from typing and crocheting and writing and painting. I think I must be able to lift a small elephant with my index finger with all the exercise I've had lately. I'm feeling disappointed, a little discouraged. She called. She said no. She found somewhere else. Apparently somewhere better. I don't understand. But my hope is a bit deflated. Why Lord, must we wait so long? I actually thought to myself a few minutes ago, "Is this supposed to be some kind of sick joke?" Then I rememebered that he isn't really the sick joke type, but it still makes me wonder sometimes.

Today I went to a different chruch, just for a change. He was talking about how to hang on the vision, how important it is not to give up on God's dreams for you. I liked that idea. That God has dreams for me. And that I can hold on to those. That I can trust. That it is actually foolishness to ask for small gifts in the presence of a King. So i'm going to keep asking for the big gift. The impossible. It felt easier to trust and believe when there was some glimpse of it. But I guess that is why they say faith is hoping for that which we cannot see. So i'm waiting. But I'm not going to lie. I'm disappointed. I was really hoping that this journey would end here, that I would have to stop making decisions based on the stuff that I have no idea about. Its hard and stressful and draining. And quite frankly, I want a rest. I'd like to be done please. Can't you just send someone tomorrrow? Why does this have to be so hard? Why do I have to keep on hanging on to this ledge, just counting up to one hundred and then back down just to keep my mind off of the fact that my fingers might slip at any moment-- wondering if maybe you will just let me fall before you come over and pick me up. What happened to those days when you used to carry me?

I was just thinking about Lazerous. How Mary, or was it Martha? said, Lord, if only you had come sooner... Why did you linger? That seems sort of jerky, you know? It seems lazy, like you are out of touch with our reality and don't really care. And you said something like, Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the Glory of God? I mean, I've heard you say that before. And I think that if maybe you came today, I would still give you the glory. Seriously. I don't really see the point. Unless this really is some kind of sick joke to you, that you really do believe in the last week of the semester as being the most ideal time to do things-- when it really seemed like my breath was going to stop, my fingers were going to slip. That your style really is to wait until we're in the grave and stinking. I know you know best and all of that, but from my point of view, that really sucks. pretty much. I don't get it.

Disappointment and doubt is pounding at my stomache.