I have been trying to do this blog thing once a week since the start of this quarter and been doing an OK job of it. I find my life isn’t all that interesting some weeks, so from time to time I might have to make up some fake news, but there will be warning signs when I get there.
This week has been very … musical … I guess is an appropriate word. I led worship in chapel last Monday playing some of my favorite songs, more cause well I wanted to and nobody was going to get in my way so neyah. This was followed with many many airport runs (ok 2) where I played ‘airport taxi’ from LAX to Pasadena for a few friends who went to Cursillo for participation as well as staff members and one other traveler who managed to land around the same time as the others. This afforded me much time in my car with my slightly damaged Ipod. It still plays but it does have the minor issue that part of the screen is unreadable. These trips afford me some time to enjoy some good driving and good driving music as well as get a better feel for some of the lyrics that get brushed over as they play while my focus us elsewhere.
Thursday night was much fun. I joined my friends Josh, Rebecca, and Laura for a jam session of banjo, guitar, bass, piano, mandolin, and voice proportions. Rotating through songs and just learning a bunch of music while having fun around friends who I had not seen in a long time (in Josh and Rebecca - They got married over spring break and are not on campus much this quarter.) It was a very relaxing experience that will have to take place again.
Friday was lots of fun as I got to revisit my Cursillo experience with a few of the people who had been. It was a time of talking, remembering, good food, a little worship but in general it was fun to just revisit memories that I had forgotten about, and hearing from the new people about their experience as well as finding out that some of the folks over in Houston were asking about me. Odd, yes. Comforting, yes.
Saturday I took the evening out to go see Rosie Thomas in concert at Fuller for Art’s week. It was a very slow style of music but they were just having a good time. The band had gotten lost on their way to Pasadena, and ended up getting about an hour south before they realized they had gone too far. Their minds were kinda gone, but it was funny to watch. It was interesting to see Rosie who has a singing voice similar to Sarah McLaughlin (or that was my first and second impression) and then to have a speaking voice that was … well … not. Still it was interesting to see a very simple musical background that gave way to very powerful lyrics. I noticed a few things that I want to try on guitar, but that will probably have to wait some. It is a working weekend and I’m about 1/3 the way done with my reading for my next paper.
Final thoughts: Rocky Road Brownies (sans nuts) are quite tasty and I still have about 1/3 of the batch left at the time of writing this … ummmmmmmm.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Sunday, April 15, 2007
A Little R&R
I have said this verbally to some people, but man … am I glad that last quarter is over. I can remember feeling like a punch-me clown that would get back up only because I had to and not because I was taunting someone. This quarter has been much more fun with much less stress (so far)
I think the first thing is that I am again playing Frisbee (aka Therapy). Never have I had so much joy from running around like a dog catching a circular object. I almost had a diving catch this morning, instead I have a small grass burn but it is better than stress. I turned in my first paper of the quarter without having to stay up late, or feel like I was in crunch time. I have had time to play guitar not because I am slacking (well I kinda am) but because I have the time to do so. I have four-day weekends. I have my internship lined up for next year. my room is clean and able to entertain guests. I get to blog every week (or do if I remember to). But mostly I think I don’t have weights attached to every limb of my body and a pack strapped to my back.
I don’t say this to brag but over the past couple of weeks quite a few of my friends have commented on how worn down I looked at the end of last quarter. Looking back I can see the concern they had at the time and the love that they showed. I owe those people a thank you for being a calming force in my life when I normally try to fill that role for others, even in the middle of my own personal chaos. I have never had this much peace when looking ahead to a quarter, my calendar is not filled with 5 million things to do, but has a manageable number of events, activities, and leisure time.
As this quarter continues on I know that I will get busy, but for now I have rest, and it has been quite some time since I have had it.
I think the first thing is that I am again playing Frisbee (aka Therapy). Never have I had so much joy from running around like a dog catching a circular object. I almost had a diving catch this morning, instead I have a small grass burn but it is better than stress. I turned in my first paper of the quarter without having to stay up late, or feel like I was in crunch time. I have had time to play guitar not because I am slacking (well I kinda am) but because I have the time to do so. I have four-day weekends. I have my internship lined up for next year. my room is clean and able to entertain guests. I get to blog every week (or do if I remember to). But mostly I think I don’t have weights attached to every limb of my body and a pack strapped to my back.
I don’t say this to brag but over the past couple of weeks quite a few of my friends have commented on how worn down I looked at the end of last quarter. Looking back I can see the concern they had at the time and the love that they showed. I owe those people a thank you for being a calming force in my life when I normally try to fill that role for others, even in the middle of my own personal chaos. I have never had this much peace when looking ahead to a quarter, my calendar is not filled with 5 million things to do, but has a manageable number of events, activities, and leisure time.
As this quarter continues on I know that I will get busy, but for now I have rest, and it has been quite some time since I have had it.
Monday, April 09, 2007
The Stone Age of Comics
There will be more laughter in heaven these days: Johnny Hart, creator of B.C., Passed away on Saturday.
As Becca would say "Sad day."
As Becca would say "Sad day."
Sunday, April 08, 2007
What now?
Holy week is a little odd for me sometimes. For the first time in any times that I can remember I was simply a congregation member of the church for the entire duration. No worship to prepare, no Easter eggs to hide; my only role was to sit back and watch. I attended a Maundy Thursday service in Burbank and a Good Friday service in Glendora and then celebrated Easter back in Burbank. And somewhere in all this the background music to this Play in 4 (or so) parts has been a soundtrack of Bethany Dillon’s new CD (more on this in a later post).
Thursday was spent catching up on errands that needed to get done, but the afternoon and evening was spent celebrating a friend’s B’day and then going out to Burbank and hearing Schubert’s Mass sung by the choir. While they had been doing them for Choral anthems for the past few weeks the added string quartet was … new. I think I slowly let myself go and allowed the music to tell the story. It was all in Latin and while the translation was given in the bulletins it wasn’t needed. The soul of the music carried everything that needed to be said. Voice and string told the story with notes that danced and played and at times cried. It was a beautifully told story, yet no words were needed.
Friday was another relaxing day of doing … well … nothing productive. But the end of the day found me fighting traffic eastward, and what is normally a 20-minute drive takes 20 minutes plus an extra hour. We got to Good Friday late and had a restful evening in consideration of the dark night.
I spent both these nights with a pair of good friends and we talked about the whole weekend as a whole. And while my only thought on Friday night was ‘It has all gone horribly wrong.’ Without looking ahead of what was to come I could not see past that moment and putting myself in the place of the disciples. Scattered, fearful, hanging by a noose, crying at a personal betrayal … all of these emotions sort of sorting themselves out with no real answer to the question of ‘What now?’
Saturday I found myself out playing Frisbee and remembering which muscles I used when I played (if only for the soreness). That afternoon was a nap followed by finishing some reading for a paper that is due soon. I was at a friend’s house and we spent the post-dinner in conversation and then playing guitar/singing and working through songs, and while I didn’t realize it at the time, we were doing exactly what we were supposed to be doing. Praising God in song, in fellowship, and by simply gathering together, till midnight (aka way past my bedtime).
This morning (Sunday) I returned to Burbank to worship with a 4-part brass section. I should probably preface this story with the information that my Dad (a pastor) is very pro-baby in his services. That if a baby cries out during his sermon he takes it for an ‘Amen’ and then he continues right on. So when the brass section finished the first hymn (Christ the Lord is Risen Today) in … a very triumphant processional type of feeling, from about the middle of the church a young boy simply cried out in joy “Yeaaa!” And in that moment he was the one who understood everything that Easter meant.
It isn’t strings, horns, Thursdays, Schubert, Fridays, or why everything seems to have gone horribly wrong. It is about Sunday, when we find out the answer to the question of ‘What now?’
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“YEAAA!”
Thursday was spent catching up on errands that needed to get done, but the afternoon and evening was spent celebrating a friend’s B’day and then going out to Burbank and hearing Schubert’s Mass sung by the choir. While they had been doing them for Choral anthems for the past few weeks the added string quartet was … new. I think I slowly let myself go and allowed the music to tell the story. It was all in Latin and while the translation was given in the bulletins it wasn’t needed. The soul of the music carried everything that needed to be said. Voice and string told the story with notes that danced and played and at times cried. It was a beautifully told story, yet no words were needed.
Friday was another relaxing day of doing … well … nothing productive. But the end of the day found me fighting traffic eastward, and what is normally a 20-minute drive takes 20 minutes plus an extra hour. We got to Good Friday late and had a restful evening in consideration of the dark night.
I spent both these nights with a pair of good friends and we talked about the whole weekend as a whole. And while my only thought on Friday night was ‘It has all gone horribly wrong.’ Without looking ahead of what was to come I could not see past that moment and putting myself in the place of the disciples. Scattered, fearful, hanging by a noose, crying at a personal betrayal … all of these emotions sort of sorting themselves out with no real answer to the question of ‘What now?’
Saturday I found myself out playing Frisbee and remembering which muscles I used when I played (if only for the soreness). That afternoon was a nap followed by finishing some reading for a paper that is due soon. I was at a friend’s house and we spent the post-dinner in conversation and then playing guitar/singing and working through songs, and while I didn’t realize it at the time, we were doing exactly what we were supposed to be doing. Praising God in song, in fellowship, and by simply gathering together, till midnight (aka way past my bedtime).
This morning (Sunday) I returned to Burbank to worship with a 4-part brass section. I should probably preface this story with the information that my Dad (a pastor) is very pro-baby in his services. That if a baby cries out during his sermon he takes it for an ‘Amen’ and then he continues right on. So when the brass section finished the first hymn (Christ the Lord is Risen Today) in … a very triumphant processional type of feeling, from about the middle of the church a young boy simply cried out in joy “Yeaaa!” And in that moment he was the one who understood everything that Easter meant.
It isn’t strings, horns, Thursdays, Schubert, Fridays, or why everything seems to have gone horribly wrong. It is about Sunday, when we find out the answer to the question of ‘What now?’
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“YEAAA!”
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