Wednesday, December 7, 2011

pure beauty.

i have been watching this scene over and over... and over again.

the story, the music, and the images are all so... so beautiful. sometimes, i cry.

but only sometimes.

it's breathtaking, really. i find myself drawn, in appreciation, by the beauty and emotion it conveys. for all my reservations about technology, media, and the likes, i cannot help but swoon over such things when i see a film like this.



p.s. i should note - beethoven's 7th is probably one of my favorite pieces of music.

ever.

Friday, December 2, 2011

generations upon generations.

my grandma introduced me to this hymn a few years back as one of her favorites. it has been meaningful to our family for generations, playing in weddings and funeral; in many ways, i have grown up with it. but it wasn't until i matured that i really begun to love it as my own, it's words so often providing a soothing balm to my aching fears and struggles. i have found it's truth so encouraging these last few months and have been hoping to obtaining the sense of peace it proclaims.

Day by day, and with each passing moment,
Strength I find to meet my trials here;
Trusting in my Father's wise bestowment,
I've no cause for worry or for fear.
He, whose heart is kind beyond all measure,
Gives unto each day what He deems best,
Lovingly its part of pain and pleasure,
Mingling toil with peace and rest.


Every day, the Lord Himself is near me
With a special mercy for each hour;
All my cares He fain would bear, and cheer me,
He Whose Name is Counselor and Power;
The protection of His child and treasure
Is a charge that on Himself He laid;
“As thy days, thy strength shall be in measure,”
This the pledge to me He made.


Help me then in every tribulation
So to trust Thy promises, O Lord,
That I lose not faith’s sweet consolation
Offered me within Thy holy Word.
Help me, Lord, when toil and trouble meeting,
Ever to take, as from a father’s hand,
One by one, the days, the moments fleeting,
Till I reach the promised land.
 

Thursday, December 1, 2011

experiencing love and shakespeare

i look a creative writing class my last semester of college and absolutely loved it. i have always been timid when it came to my writing. something has always held me back from fully exploring my passion for it.... perhaps it was the fear of creating duty out of something that i loved. but, if i am being honest, it was probably more due to my deep and intense fear of lack - lack of potential, lack of skill, lack of growth.

so taking a writing class was a big step* and while i am still not sure i am good enough to pursue writing, i appreciated the challenge and encouragement i found.

during the poetry unit, we had to write a sonnet and my professor encouraged us to play with a sonnet that we found accessible, try to mimic its flow, wording, and style. i chose shakespeare's sonnet 18 and while i didn't stick with the theme whatsoever, i forced myself to keep some of his original wording; i made sure to keep the last words of each line the same. it proved to be rather difficult, maintaining the sonnet's form while respecting shakespeares brilliancy, but it was fun.

here is the result (i am cringing right now... i am quite pathetic at sharing, must have been sick the day they taught that in preschool):

Can love be lost if birds invite the day?
If new spring grows beneath the temperate
Breeze and we, with ease, believe even’tual May,
Then surely love can free its heart from grate.
Yet when the birds do sing to dewy shine,
We still know that morn drags on to dark dimmed
Night; and by noon we see our hopes decline
Like warmth that’s withered raw by chill untrimmed.
But though the dark abounds ‘round that which fades,
Still grief withdraws to mend. For winter owes
To spring a hope refreshed, restored while shades
Of cold do fade and careful flowers grow.
    So long as spring returns and birds I see
    So long as hope renews will I leave thee.

*sharing my writing with others proved to be a much bigger step. consequently, i am still not sure i am going to post this...

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

tree of life

i watched it last night...

it was incredible.

of course, it took awhile for me to get over that it was not a linear storyline.  even though i knew going into the movie that it was different than most (perhaps, a rather large understatement there), we are so programmed to expect sensible and straight progressions that it was hard for me to relinquish the desire to understand everything that was going on. i can be such a control freak, sometimes. but once i let go, my mind was blown. it was as if i transcended my small room and entered into a place so wonderfully constructed with all of its sights (oh! the cinematography!) and sounds (and the music!) beautifully combining to create, as it would seem, a whole new world. or, rather, a whole new perspective of our world. our earth. (combine this with a recent rereading of Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card and all your thoughts are bound to center on earth and the humanity it holds...)

i wish i had let go sooner and allowed myself the ability to just experience the artistry on the screen.

because it was beautiful. in every sense of the word.

i was deeply touched, although i was not exactly sure why. if you asked me to describe my feelings, i am not sure i could verbalize them. i found myself crying at the end scene but i couldn't give a reason for my tears. and when the credits began to roll, i let out a long and deep exhale; i had not even realized i had been holding my breath. i felt an emphatic empathy towards the film's questions, summed up in the wrenching plea of God, where are you? and although the questions were not direct answered i felt a strange sense of relief and release.

perhaps, in all of the film's complexities, the overtly spiritual themes met my tired and lonely heart where it was most needed: discovering, again, the simplistic beauties found in humanity. discovering, again, humanity as God's creation.

i started writing in hopes of processing my thoughts, my feelings. it was the first time i had done this in a while and it was cathartic in some sense. words flew out my mind onto the paper and i began breaking lines as if to write a poem. i wont' share it with you because it was, really, just scribble, but i will say that i kept writing, over and over, take me with you... to discover wonders anew... take me with you to the King in the sky as if begging Malick to take me to a place where even 1950s-Waco is beautiful. Where life's mundane, in its insignificance, finds significance because, quite simply, we are created beings. Where redemption and hope ring true. Where Grace lives free and God lives.

i think i need to go watch it again...

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

you know you're from the northeast when...

the thought of a large, post-workout cup of dunkin donuts coffee is truly the only reason you get up to go to spin class.

the conversion is happening, folks.

Monday, November 14, 2011

falling for fall

i love music.

that's a bit of an understatement, actually, but whatever. i am quite a fan. i love the its ability to  entrance and emote, to move and soothe, to dictate and define. i love how certain seasons in my life are marked by different songs, or how certain songs are marked by different seasons. i find music's innate ability to grow itself and its listeners quite fascinating and i hope to one day explore its impact on my life.

i have a tendency to get 'stuck' on certain songs, listening to them over and over, allowing them to seep through, or sometimes even evoke, whatever thoughts and emotions i am experiencing at a given moment. usually, a song will last throughout certain seasons and i am finding that particular pattern very telling. consequently, i am trying to note it as an act of introspective self-discipline. what songs am i listening to right now? during this season of my life? why? most of the times, it's just 'cause they're just really good songs. but sometimes there are reasons behind my subconscious choice.

anywho. all that to say. i made a playlist. 23 songs i have been listening to this fall. if you ask me, i think they're pretty great. but you can check them out yourself.  i will let you judge.

because i don't know the best way to playlist share... here are two ways to get the files (i really hope i don't get in trouble for this...):

here is it on spotify: falling for fall
here it is on mediafire: http://www.mediafire.com/?rmgihq7xnqvxg

(mediafire screwed up the order... which i so carefully put together. seriously, i listened to it over and over until i got it right. so here it is for your casual perusal):

2 atoms in a molecule ... noah and the whale
love is all ... tallest man on earth
hysteric ... yeah yeah yeahs
blood ... the middle east
wash. ... bon iver
someday ... the strokes
sprawl II ... arcade fire
helplessness blues ... fleet foxes
too young to burn ... sonny & the sunsets
i will remain ... matthew and the atlas
marathon ... tennis
american nomad ... apache relay
sleepyhead .. passion pit
lost in my mind ... the head and the heart
lovers without love ... joshua james
dandelion wine ... gregory alan isakov
who are we fooling ... brooke fraser (ft. aqualung)
your hands ... j.j. heller
shroud ... nathaniel rateliff
king of spain ... tallest man on earth
starlight ... muse
i'm gonna be (500 miles) ... blake stratton
paradise ... coldplay

Sunday, November 6, 2011

things to love

i love how special chai lattes have become. (a positive perspective of having no starbucks around)

i love that the leaves are still a beautiful shade of mustard yellow

i love wearing sweaters, tights, and boots.

i love the my momma came and visited.

and i am loving the new coldplay album...




                                                                                                       (particularly this song)

Friday, October 28, 2011

redfining loneliness

i went back to wheaton a few days ago. awesome at points and tough at others, it was a weekend filled with people, people, and more people. and i soaked it up. lived life large, so to speak.

i also, and consequently, crashed at several points throughout the weekend. i called my mom on Saturday (not even 24 hours into my trip, mind you) and could not help it as tears ran down my cheeks. "Mom. I don't want to go back." 

as much as i loved seeing friends whom i missed and with whom i am genuinely comfortable (which is hard to come by these days), i could not shake a particularly present and nagging feeling that in a few days i would have to return to new hampshire and leave this place so filled with faces the i recognized, so filled with community. i could not forget that soon i will jet out of o'hare and helplessly watch as the ground beneath me, a ground that seems so familiar, slowly dissent back to a ground so foreign. 

when i expressed this to those around me, i was consistently, almost repeatedly, assured that wheaton too, as a place, is foreign without the familiarity of college. that really, this weekend was a false perception of what real life is day in and day out. yeah, ryn, you're seeing a lot of people. but don't think this is normal. ryn, you should know that i, too, am struggling to find community. i, too, am lonely.

i guess part of me was encouraged by this. i know it was meant in that way and i appreciated it.

another large part of me, though, cried out in fear: "what? you're lonely too? and you are surrounded by people! what hope is there for me? an isolated youngin' in wolfeboro new hamsphire where, i swear, the average age has got to be above 50* and anything anywhere in any direction is about 40 minutes away.**"

but it is through this that i have (besides that small stubborn part of me that likes to wallow over my own sorrows. i'm sure you know what i am talking about) begun to realize that this year and - as i think i will find down the road - most of life, is all about what you, yourself make of it. what i am experiencing right now may look different than others' experiences but it is really, more or less, just a small part of my current stage of life. i have begun to realize that loneliness is present just as much in wheaton as it is in wolfeboro. that college made community and friendship easier. not easy as i should consistently be reminded, just easier. gosh. that everything up until this point made such things a wee bit easier. (i mean, preschool? man, those were the days. our lives were so balanced back then - we got education, play, and sleep all wrapped up in what we knew as a "school day.") i am realizing that struggle, confusion, isolation, and pain are commonplace in the human experience and are thus small parts of what makes up humanity in all of its glory, its ugliness, and its beauty. 

and yet, through Christ, there can thankfully be more depth in the story of humanity. for through Him comes redemption, peace, and joy. such goodness enters in and intersects our brokenness. through the cross, we are granted assurance as we see forgiveness rain down through steadfast love. and through the empty tomb, we are granted hope as we see goodness and mercy reign in faithful victory. it is this ultimate story of love, sacrifice, and triumph through which we are blessed with new perceptions and definitions. because this story changes everything. even the plight of the isolated youngin' in wolfeboro new hampshire. 

i guess in the end, what i am trying to say, is that my situation and whatever picture it attempts to paint, is what i make of it. i can define it however i chose, through a lens of sorrow or a lens of hope, although the choice is not always so straightforward. loneliness, in itself, is just a word defined though the common experience of humanity. an experience that can also be dramatically impacted by Christ if we so let it. for Christ, who's story provides hope, encouragement, peace, and ultimately community, makes all things new.

and that, in itself, provides all the comfort i need.

basically, i wish i knew more about phenomenology. or is it ontology?


"If the LORD had not been my help,
   my soul would soon have lived in the land of silence."
Psalm 94:17


*i do not think, in any way, that this is bad. it's just that... well. you know.
**also not a bad thing. it's just a fact that has hard consequences.

Friday, October 21, 2011

merton's musings

another wise man's thoughts for ya.

sorry for a lack of my own thoughts recently. i have many... just ask my mom. (ha) but i am having a hard time articulating them, especially in a somewhat interesting way.

i have been reading some thomas merton as of late. slow to jump on the bandwagon, i think, but it's better late than never. i have, in my recent circumstances, been trying to find some solace in solitude and i felt that our dear monk friend would be of some guidance. he did, in fact, live all by his lonesome self for a few years and i though that maybe, perhaps he had some wisdom that he was willing to share. his book, new seeds of contemplation, has been somewhat of a companion in this time when compansionship is direly needed.

anywho. this is not from that book but rather from a little moment of mercy i hope not to take for granted.  i found it on an old, beat up piece of card-stock down at the boathouse one random afternoon a few weeks ago. there, in the middle of the crowded, but beautiful mess that is the camp boathouse, i found a little piece of peace and grace, one that has continued to touch my soul in a much needed way.


"My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and in fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that i am actually doing so. 

But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.

Therefore will I trust you though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone."


oh how i hope to live with such peace as merton! to live with such a complete attitude of trust and willingness. i pray that for my life - when the path seems strikingly clear. 

or not so much.

also: i have been consistently listening to this song by JJ Heller. it's incredible. you should to. (i make now promises to the quality of the youtube video... if it's silly, don't watch. this song is worth more than that.)

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Limitless


i love this.
"God speaks to each of use as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night. 
These are the words we dimly hear: 
You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing,
Embody me. 
Flare up like a flame
and make big shadows I can move in. 
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don't let yourself lose me. 
Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness. 
Give me your hand."
Rainer Maria Rilke.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

ponder anew

i finally uploaded pictures on my computer.

all 1,127 of them. while some of them were taken today, some were also taken in may...

oh well.


the edit process has begun. but since that will take awhile, here are some for you to enjoy. hopefully you will get a taste of my surroundings... more to come, i'm sure.

p.s. sorry for the lack of formatting. i'm still figuring this new template out. blah blogger, you confuse me.



I love this color of fall...
leaves, leaves...
and more beautiful leaves.



i wish you could hear this...
i found some water.


my attempts at a self portrait. holga 135, 35mm
also holga 135, 35mm

Saturday, October 15, 2011

the unforeseen aspects of small town livin'

two things that, as of late, are making my day:

1. contra dancing.
2. the tuftonboro county bluegrass jam.

why yes. these are weekly events.

and yes, i will be a'partakin. words cannot express my new found enthusiasm for life in wolfeboro, nh.

Monday, October 10, 2011

living the question

in a recent attempt to ward off an emotional breakdown, i found myself reading down by the lake on this rather beautiful fall day. i mean, seriously. we do not deserve this kind of weather. the leaves have already begun to change and yet it is still at least 65 degrees. goodness. 

anyways. i have been reading rainer rilke, whose poetry i love. but, thanks to a dear friend, i have been going through rilke's letters to a young poet. and truly, i cannot really express the ways the Lord has been using this tiny little book to speak such peace into my heart. in short, it has been tremendously appreciated in this time. 

i found this passage particularly relevant and beautiful.

"You are so young, so before all beginning, and I want to beg you,
as much as i can, to be patient
towards all that is unsolved in your heart and to try to love the
questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign 
tongue. Do not now seek the answers,
which cannot be given to you because you would not be able to live them.
 And the point is, to live everything. 
Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, 
without noticing it,
live along some distant day into the answer."
that's what i am hoping for... to live the questions and through that, to hopefully rest in His peace, despite the unknown and the hurt that comes with questions. 
 
Lord, have mercy on me.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

when the lights go out...

we had no power the other night. apparently, when you live in a remote location, power outages are not only to be expected, but forgiven as a semi-basic occurrence. thanks for telling me.

true to my oblivious self, it took me awhile to realize the power was out. we had come back from a more than interesting staff day at the state fair (i know, right?) and i honestly thought nothing of all the lights being off. lack of company, with all of its quietness and stillness, also promises a lack of electricty, i have found; it's going to be, literally, a dark year i suppose.

it wasn't until i wanted to turn the light on that i realized, with a frustrated flick flick flickity flick, that i wasn't actually going to be able to turn on the lights.

well shoot.

the gravity of my discovery began to hit me in waves: no, i was not going to be able to heat up the soup i was hoping to eat for dinner. no i was not going to be able to get on my computer (i didn't charge it before i left... bummer). no i was not going to be able to get on the internet. no i was not going to be able to blog about my lovely state fair experience. and, worst of all, no i was not going to be able to watch modern family.

no. no. no no no no. and with the sun sinking steadily behind the tree line, i was going to be stuck inside a dark and, may i mention, cold house that was only going to get darker and colder.

the boys built a fire while i proceeded to throw a bit of tantrum. what are we supposed to do? do they know when the power is going to be turned on? has anyone called the electric company? and what about the generators? the food in the refrigerators? wait everyone older than 24 left? wait. no. the boys looked helplessly at me while i freaked out. they suggested a headlamp and a book. i resigned, grabbed the aforementioned items, some lukewarm yogurt for dinner, and sat down in a huff.

this. was. not. ok.

i calmed down eventually, enough to get some kerosene lanterns lit so i could head up to my room. i got ready for bed by lantern light, layering layer upon layer to ward off a now heater-less chill. i felt like i was living straight out of the 1800s. which, i finally admitted, was kinda cool. i was actually a bit thankful for the night of no electricity. i liked the chapter i read and was actually able to journal a bit. all in all, it was a nice evening. and, to make it even better, the electricity came back on before i went to bed. i have yet to be more thankful for my cranky old heater.

it must be noted that it wasn't necessarily the lack of electricity that was bothering me. ok, maybe a little bit. the idea of going to bed without knowing the time (no phone service, remember) and without heat was, in fact, getting to me. rather, i have realized that it was more the kink thrown into my schedule that prompted the tantrum. i had my night all planned out and within five minutes, the entirety of that plan had burned up in the fire we built to keep warm.

this realization had been nagging on me for most of the week. i mean, am i really that set on plans, on schedules, on self-ordained order that i struggle to enjoy a spontaneous, quiet night by the fire? what's more, i should begin to ask myself, is this how approach all of my life? how am i supposed to allow the Lord's direction, His will, and His Lordship in my life if i can't allow a bit of His improv. i have bought into this lie of culture that my life has to planned. it has to be scheduled. it has to be going somewhere with meaning, with gusto, and with pace. get a 'good' grade. get a 'good' job. get a 'good' salary. get a 'good' spouse. get a 'good' family. i schedule my life so much to match the runnings of the world that i speed right by the peace i can find in the life that i am promised in the Word. and eventually, i get so caught up in how i want my life to go, or even worse how the world tells me it should go, that i miss out on Who, instead, i should be following.

as of late, the past few days, past few weeks, past few months of my life hasn't necessarily gone the way i planned it to go. or, even, how i wanted it to go. yes i can see the wonderful things have been gained in this whole process but in the jostle of pace and changes of plans, many things have also been lost. and i have found it hard not to throw a fit. i am so tempted to ask what, how, and why and to wish things were different. i often find myself hoping for my planned life to come magically back instead of accepting the one that has been given to me. 

instead of trusting that, maybe, a kink in my plan could reveal a spontaneous beauty in His.

pray for me, please. i am finding it hard to trust.

    But as for me, my prayer is to you, O LORD.
        At an acceptable time, O God,
        in the abundance of your steadfast love answer me in your saving faithfulness.
(Psalm 69:13)

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

oh how i love e.e. cummings

may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old
  
may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it's sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young
  
and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there's never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile
 
e.e. cummings 
 
his words seem to better express my hopes for this year.

lessons so far...

1. mumford and sons is so much better on vinyl.

2. anything, really, is better on vinyl.

3. camp food is great... until you've had it consistently for more than two months. time to get creative; cooking tips are more than welcome.

4. on that note, just because its available, free, and easy to retrieve does not mean that you should eat it... if you want to fit into your jeans at the end of the year, you really should lay off the ice cream.

5. running is fun when you have nothing else to do.

6. having a lot of time does not necessarily equate productivity. discipline is a character trait not easily learned, especially when google, facebook, and espn are literally awaiting your fingertips. 

7. the heater below where you hang your scarves can, and will, try to burn them. watch out.

8. you really can have too many cardigans.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

where in the world...

i had a dream the other night in which i had run into a friend who i really only knew my sophomore year of college. we began to catch up (the details of this conversation are, of course, somewhat lot in the translation between dream and reality so excuse the fogginess of my account).

he asked me, so where are you right now? australia? the ukraine?

to which i sheepishly replied, no. im actually in new hampshire.

to be honest, i was bit bemused by this dream because i am not exactly sure when i wanted to go to australia or the ukraine. and i'm not really sure why i wanted to go. which doesn't surprise be, although adventure, excitement, change are some words that pop quickly into my mind. but i guess i apparently did at some point. enough, at least to dream about it.

at the same time, the dream made perfect sense: for if i wasn't to go to those two specific places necessarily, i do know i wanted to live abroad after graduation. that, at least, i am confident of. but i didn't end up abroad. and for many reasons, albeit mostly subconscious ones, that fact is (apparently) somewhat burdensome.

please don't get me wrong. i am in no way disappointed with the direction my life has taken me recently. quite the opposite, actually; i am incredibly grateful, for reasons that i am sure to discuss later on. however, it is drastically different than i had ever picture. for, unlike some of my peers, i am not abroad nor, like so many others of my peers, do i live in a city. or even that close to one. i am currently living in the small town of alton, new hampshire or to be more specific, the even smaller campus of camp brookwoods. the nearest city (boston) is about an hour and forty five minutes south. walmart has become the best shopping in the area and the nearest starbucks, at least that i have located, is about an hour away. it takes me at least twenty minutes to get to the grocery store or gas station. and, probably the hardest aspect of the deal, i don't really have cell phone service because, as i have learned, you can hold the phone up as high as you want, you can twirl, you can dance, but if that text message doesn't want to go out... it won't*.

my job is fairly normal, with flexible but decently expected hours. i work 9-5 most days... ok. that's all a lie. i work whenever i want, really. i just have to make sure i get in 40 hours a week and since everyone else is here 9-5 i choose those hours merely for the sake of company. most days, i run copies (and copies and copies and copies), i stuff envelopes (and envelopes and envelopes and envelopes), and i write emails (and emails and emails and emails). other days, i get to try my hand in the development field, calling random people i don't know who may find in their hearts the desire to donate to our ongoing capital campaign. more on that later, i'm sure. random days, i actually get to do fun camp stuff like low ropes initiatives, lifeguarding, and (don't say its true!) staff skiing. i live in a small room not much bigger than a dorm room above my office. my game room, yes my game room, is down the hall from my bedroom; there are three fooseball tables, two pin pong tables, and a pool table. there is also a projector system that, if i had enough desire, i could watch a movie on. my living room connects to my rather large dining room, which i share with about 300 conference guests each weekend. in one corner there's a couch and a tv. in another, a fire place. and in my favorite corner, there is a piano. if you haven't caught on to the trend** quite yet, my kitchen is indeed the camp kitchen which is fully stocked might i add. i am cultivating my culinary creativity with industrial sizes pots, pans, and portions while attempting my sure darndest to avoid the freezer full of moose track ice cream.

i accepted the job on a whim partially because i had fallen in love with this place and partially because it seemed a better option than living at home and working a managerial job at Target. and so far, those reasons have turned out to be good enough. while the pace is, as the saying goes, slow as molasses, i have appreciated the time such a pace has allowed me to think, to process, to read, to pray. plus, room and board is included in my paycheck so a decent amount of money is coming in while, because of my location, not a lot of money going out. it is a nice set up to say the truth. and i am incredibly grateful for it.

however, it isn't winter yet. and, as i have heard, molasses flows a lot slower in january.

guess only time is going to tell, right?

*may it be noted that i would more than gladly give cell phones and starbucks up if i were to travel off to somewhere distant, say for example, the country of ukraine. but never, in my wildest dreams would i have expected to have such accommodations in the US. but, who said life doesn't surprise us. and can i repeat again that i am not complaining. i, in fact, kinda like it... so far.

** i live in the camp's main building. what can i say?

Sunday, September 25, 2011

beginnings

i decided to start up a blog.

again.

because i have tried this once before. and i was pretty successful. but then i stopped. for a while... a year actually. and then i lost my password. and then the email i was using was deleted. and then. and then. and then... i now can't get it back.

so i am starting fresh. because what else is there to do?

which is probably a good thing, despite the natural frustrations that come with starting a brand new blog. (it had taken me a long time get my blog looking the way i liked it... and i can't remember how i actually managed to do anything. html editing... like, what? gosh)

without much ado, then, this here is my blog. i hope it will serve to the purpose of tracking my whereabouts, thoughts, ramblings, muses, readings, listenings, and other such wonders of post-graduate life. i could try to make my blog focused. but honestly, i feel that would be a disservice to myself sine my life is, in fact, much more broad and turbulent than it is narrow and serene. i honestly cannot say where i will be in a year or two. and for that reason alone i feel i cannot begin to predict where this blog is headed, in the same way that i cannot predict where i am headed.

so, if you want, ride with me on this journey we like to call life. it might not be grand and exciting, adventurous or thrilling (working 9-5 in a slightly abandoned summer camp is far from what i would like to call thrilling), but it sure is unpredictable. and as hard as that is for me to handle sometimes, i find it desperately exciting.

breathtaking, really.