9.29.2009

positive pointing #25

My school used to be a Tuberculosis Treatment center.
5,000 people from all over the country came there in hopes of living.
Not for an art education, not for a change of scenery, not for vacation.
They wanted to live; to survive.
Most of them died on my campus.

For my class we are introducing ourselves to one of these people through the records that remain of them. I found a man named Sam Stahler tucked inside a manilla folder in the back of a cardboard filing box. Sam and me lived on the very same street in Philadelphia, only three blocks away from each other. About 60 years ago, Sam came to RMCAD from Philly, just like me. He left behind his family and his streets and everything he'd built his life around and come to know and was shocked, also, by the spaciousness of Colorado, by the thin air, by the towering mountains that you never grow used to; the snow-laden winters, the quiet people and he missed the bustle and motion of Philadelphia and felt the pain that distance created.

Sam died on my campus. He was 24.
Somehow this really puts things in perspective for me.
I'm thankful that I know Sam.


9.28.2009

positive pointing #24




September 28th will always be my own a personal holiday where I can celebrate these two miracles in my life. It's the day God gave me both these human beings to walk with me and stand beside me and generally sprinkle all kinds of goodness around me. They are continual gifts to me.

Happy Birthday Chali and Eric!
You don't know how bottomless my love is for you.

9.20.2009

positive pointing #23


Something about today was very quiet and peaceful. Most times, my quiet days are anxious, stuffy days. The silent fuzz of nothingness rings in my ears. I usually don't like it. Silence is, typically, seconds meandering over this way and that way and side to side; anywhere but forward. Silence means slow. I'll turn my music up louder, download sermons, make lists of things to do, places to go where I can go a get some noise (a nearby coffeee shop, Target, a friend's house). Who can I call? What plans can I make? I'll go running and turn my Ipod up until it fills all my senses!

But today was not that way. It was as if everyone was on the same page. Nobody wanted noise today, so there was none to be found. Even the sky was in on it. At about 3:00 it turned a pleasant muted grey. I turned off my radio during my drive to church. I ate lunch with Eric in the shade of an umbrella without much chatter. I kept my phone in the trunk of my car and had short, crisp chats when I did use it. Eric and I walked the deserted streets of downtown Denver to his emptied school Campus and down long, echoing hallways. I nodded to the few people I passed, and they pleasantly dipped their chin back. I wasn't agitated. I didn't get snappy. I didn't put on a show for anyone. I just sailed on the breeze of the day.

It was a beautiful sunday that repaired my mangled mind.
It was easy silence. That is a gift.

9.19.2009

positive pointing #22


I'm thankful for happy colors found in unexpected places.
Like here, in a back alley, on the back corner of an art supply store that sits off a busy street in Denver. A man had just finished painting the last bit of the yellow square when I remarked how great they looked. "Oh, there just a test run. Not sure what color we're doing the whole wall."

"Just leave it like it is!"
I wanted to say.
But how often do we say exactly what we should?

9.16.2009

positive pointing #21


I'm thankful for necklaces. Right now I'm wearing both my sister and my mother around my neck. The locket has my sister's face--and even a little note-- in it and the rose pendant was worn around my mother's neck on her wedding day. When neither my sister or my mother are around when I wish they were, I wear one of these necklaces and, ever so slightly, become calm and am able to put on finger on who I am and where I come from and who I am loved by.

9.12.2009

positive pointing #19


I'm thankful for a ceiling of grey clouds that made morning last all day. It gave my eyes a rest and allowed me a long, crisp run this morning that I've been sorely needing. It reminded me how cozy it feels to pull sleeves down over my hands upon stepping one foot out the door; the instant reflex that will shortly be followed by gloves being pulled on or slipping back inside for another layer or warmer socks. I'm thankful that winter comes slowly and allows us to adjust, to accept, to prepare for and embrace nature's chilly change of pace.

9.11.2009

positive pointing #18


i'm thankful for a job.
i got one today:)
(this is a shot from the inside of the little shop: Starlet. for my people in Maryland: it could be Sunnyside's sister)

9.10.2009

positive pointing #17


I'm thankful that I came aross this website the other day and the seemingly endless feast (check out the archive list) it provides for my eyes. The successful mixing and blending of texture, color, pattern delights my core--on paper or the body. This site is stocked full of beautiful photographs of absolutely satisfying blends. It is an affordable, yummy treat from the cyber cosmos. It reminds me that we are all little creators walking around, imitating the true Creator, with brilliant ideas buzzing in our heads about how to put clothes on ourselves that can really turn out to be truly dazzingly.
And then I hit something: I know why and how we dress beautifully! I know the reason why anything is beautiful. Because I know the author of beautiful. He made it. He invented it. That's why I'm aware of the concept and appriciate the way that legs look in black stockings with a pair of shiny heels. The delicate glow of skin next to a pile of gold bracelets. He made it to look that way. So I could look at it, enjoy it and know something about Him. Isn't that a happy thought? I know the secret behind every perfectly cropped jacket and every classy pair of sunglasses.

I'm thankful that he didn't put me in a dusty, colorless planet where everyone wore white jumpsuits. See, now arn't you thankful?

9.08.2009

positive pointing #16


Tonight I'm thankful for Bob Marley. His songs sort of feel like the gospel message made into a rhythm. My day had been beige. It had been filled with unexciting things like bad breath, squinting, sweaty feet, uneven fingernails and tired smiles. Things that make me feel throughly unglamorous; that make me feel not on top of the world but carrying the weight of it either. The evening was drawing to a creeping, indecisive end. Bob Marley's tunes slipped into the sound waves. My day toppled into good. I could hum and dance alittle as my egg sizzled contentedly on the stove and my newly-bared feet slapped around the kitchen floor.

There's a bit of summer tucked in every song; some sunshine and sand and a little breeze.
Listen for yourself:

put this on while you're making dinner tonight.

9.07.2009

positive pointing #15


I'm thankful for ridiculously long car rides that make me revel in the simple things:
my bed, my space, fresh air, stretching my legs, dogs a knee-level again and things to look forwards to besides breakfast, lunch and gas-stops.

oh, and good smells :)

9.03.2009

positive pointing #14

I'm thankful for buses. I took two buses home from school today to check how long the route would take. For some reason the 20 extra minutes that it added to my daily trip didn't bother me. Somewhere between the wonderfully freezing air hitting my face and the textured old men that sat around the front of the bus swapping stories and cigarettes, it hit me. I love the bus. I realized I really miss those crazy old men, the young girls with babies on their hips, the kid with ipod jammed in his ears staring out the windowand the woman carrying an impossible amount of groceries and personal possessions while manuevering a stroller and nursing her infant.

9.02.2009

positive pointing #13


I'm thankful for coffee and it's ability to turn potentially long, lazy days into well-organized charts and lists where things are chronologically accomplished and crossed off. It's kinda magical. If I'm feeling ridiculously elated about my day at 8:00 in the morning, it's probably because I'm gripping a steaming mug in my left hand--or a travel-mug of iced coffee. or, occasionally, a paper cup with a brown sleeve around it's middle. The sleeves usually like to tell me how much I'm damaging the earth by using that particular cup and the accompanying lid and that even the 100% made-of-recycled-material sleeve so I usually try and bring my travel mug and spare myself the guilt and 10 cents.

9.01.2009

positive pointing #12


I'm thankful for my cell phone. And that's a funny thing to be thankful for. It's not very romantic or poignant. They are shiny, cold machines that flip, move and slide in strange ways. People always want them put away, turned off, quieted. There's articles and little lectures given about how cell phones are at the very least distracting us and at worst, causing millions of car accidents. The culprits of a generation that suffers from chronic muli-tasking. The enemies of all things peaceful and still.

These are true, I know.

But I can't tell you what a comfort it is knowing that all my friends are carried around with me everyday in my messenger bag or that they all sit right inside my pocket. It is my persuasion that texting is a beautiful thing that has been horribly mistreated and misunderstood. I really can't think of a more wonderful concept than being able to send little notes to our friends at any time of the day filled with glowing evidence of the mundane: questions, discoveries, complaints,thoughts--- the little things that distance could crush; that take the edge off missing people.
And while I know that being completely cut-off from all things familiar is a great and worthy journey; that we'd probably all be better english-speakers and grammar loyalists if cell phones had never existed, I'm thankful that my days can be peppered with little words that unknowingly cheer me on.